Enigma
by RivLee
Summary: When darkness comes, people are forced to face the power within them. For a female of another realm this time will teach her not to fear the future and to trust in herself. AU, Het, L and OC. First story in the Time and Tales series. Complete.
1. Genesis

Disclaimer: I do not own anything created by the great mind of J.R.R. Tolkien (author bows down). I do, however, own Rhiannon and my other orig characters.

A/N: ok, the Latin is a little rusty, or a lot, but I haven't taken it in a while, and I left the Latin dictionary at home.

Prologue

"Love does not seem to begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up."

It was difficult for Rhiannon to see the world around her. The only thought in her mind was to run and to run as fast as she could. She paid no heed to the fact that her bare feet were being worn raw, that her legs and arms had scratches, some very deep, from all the foliage and tree branches in the surrounding area. She just knew she had to keep running; no where near here was safe. Safety no longer existed in this realm, this Middle-Earth. As it always happens, years of peace were shattered by a greed to conquer. She felt the sorrow for this land and the irony of the situation; she was sent to this area for her safety. After she had arrived the safety vanished. Rhiannon looked up to the heavens, praying for a sign that a land of safety, no matter how small was near. She knew what hunted her was not directly behind her but if she tarried it would catch up. She wish she knew this land well, this realm she had visited before. It was similar to her own, with land that was just as lush and beautiful. She had never felt such fear around her heart and in her mind as she did in the realm at this time. Words came to her, names she recognized: "Gandalf", "Rivendell", and a phrase, "Find the elves". She now had her direction. Rhiannon didn't care what elves she came across. All she wanted was to get to Gandalf, to Imladris. She knew he had been in danger, but was now safe. He had her summoned to this now unsafe land, where danger hung in the air; suffocating all hope and happiness.

Chapter 1: Genesis

"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."

Legolas of Mirkwood rode off to Rivendell carrying news of the escape of the creature Gollum. Whispers of worst things and dark times had come to him. Legolas and his kindred where on alert. Therefore when Legolas heard a faint sound, he was ready to attack. A being was close and was trying to go unnoticed in the surrounding wood. Legolas and his two companions, Lostladion and Menepaurion, drew their bows, preparing to wound whatever may harm them. A female voice than rang out, speaking in the Common Tongue,

"Stay your bows for I do not approach with intent to harm. You are headed towards Imladris. The place is on all your minds. I'm asking to be shown the way."

Legolas put his bow down and motioned for his companions to do the same.

"Show us yourself, tell us your name and who you are descended from. Then we may help you."

Rhiannon slowly stepped out of the undergrowth. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, to hide her face, ears, and hair. If they saw what she was, or wasn't for that matter, they may not help. Elves don't always lend their help to strangers. She looked at the elves before her and an enigmatic smile came to her lips. She had been told the stories of the beauty that was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, but the descriptions she had heard of him did no sense of justice. Like most male elves, he was not handsome, but enchantingly beautiful, almost feminine. The sunlight made his pale blonde hair seem golden and the expression in his dark blue eyes was quite intense. Maybe this realm did have it's upsides. But now was not the time for such thoughts. All the elves looked at her suspiciously, as was their nature. A slight arrogance was also in their gazes. They had guessed what she was not. She could've laughed though, they thought she was human. Not elf, too young for wizard, too tall for hobbit, so she must be mortal. If only they knew.

Legolas stared down from his horse at the woman before him. She had still not answered his inquiries, and while he was a fair-minded elf, he was not used to his requests being ignored by mortals. On closer inspection, he saw she was not a mortal woman at all. He had already ruled out dwarf and hobbit, because of her height, and also ruled out elf, for she was not as tall as them. There was an air about her similar to Aragorn, a mortal man raised by elves, but there was something else in her eyes. Something that said she was much older then she appeared. She was silently laughing at them; that much was obvious. All of these thoughts puzzled him greatly. He arched one of his dark brows,

"Why do you not answer my questions? Do you not know who you are?"

She gave a laugh and her hood fell back, revealing dark hair and ears that startled him. Not perfectly pointed as his own, nor the shape of man, somewhere in between. She then smiled, knowing all the elves gazes had turned to her ears,

"My name is Rhiannon. I come from a realm that is not home to Middle-Earth. I come from the Insula Sharagdus and am a dimidiam nympham-sagam." She paused. "I see you are confused by my words. I do not know your elven and you do not know my Latin. You would call me half-elven. But I am also something that is not mortal. I go to Imladris to seek the counsel of both Elrond and Gandalf I-"

At the mention of Gandalf, Legolas interrupted, "Mithrandir! How do you know he is Imladris? He stays in no place long and lets few know his journeys."

"I can not tell you how I know, I just do. Not to be short, but the longer we stand here, the more time we waste. Are you going to show me to Imladris or must I find it myself?"

One of the other elves, who had not spoken a word previously, said

"I have heard of her kind, Legolas. They are good people. Half-elves, half- wizards, their realm lies beyond the lands of the East. If she is seeking Gandalf's counsel, then it is with good reason. They rarely stray outside their world, unless their help is needed or unless they are in danger."

Legolas considered Lostladion words for a moment.

"Very well, Lostladion, we shall bring her with us." Legolas turned to Rhiannon. "You may ride with Lostladion since he has spoken in your favor."

Rhiannon had a very hard time of resisting the urge to roll her eyes, a most unbecoming habit she had picked up years ago.

"Not to seem ungrateful, but may I know the names of the elves I travel with? And could you please not speak in front of me as if I'm not here. It's quite degrading."

Rhiannon then hoisted herself up into the saddle of Lostladion, the one elf she had been told the name of. Even though she knew Legolas' name, he had not introduced himself and there was no reason for lack of manners. He turned to her,

"Excuse my lack of manners then. You ride with Lostladion, son of Carnewath. Beside you is Menepaurion; son of Menearato. I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood."

Rhiannon smirked and muttered, "What an impressive title. Let me practice my curtsy."

Lostladion, despite himself, gave a small chuckle. 


	2. Childish Tendancies

Chapter 2: Childish Tendencies  
  
"All fear what they can not understand."  
  
Rhiannon looked around at the beauty that was Middle-Earth. Her land was beautiful, called the Emerald Isle because it was so green. But there the surroundings did not talk so. Everything here had voices, eyes, ears, and mouths. Ever little thing had a story and history to tell. And the land would tell it if it was provoked to. The land whispered of the what was coming. Rhiannon noticed that the elves did not talk as they traveled. Rhiannon found this slightly odd. Her people always desired to talk to each other. Someone always had and an adventure to tell. They would still listen to the surroundings but the voices were needed to offer a small bit of comfort. After traveling for quite sometime, so long Rhiannon's back was cramping, Legolas said,  
  
"We will rest for a quick moment. Menepaurion, take the horses to the river for a quick drink and rest. Lostladion, come with me to search this area. Rhiannon, try not to cause any harm to yourself and stay here."  
  
Rhiannon fought back the very childish urge to stick her tongue out at Legolas' back. She hated the fact she was being treated like a child. Although to these elves she must seem like one. She was twenty years shy of a thousand. Rhiannon looked around her, trying to find something to entertain her now that her companions had left. She needed something to distract her and quell the fear that was in the back of her mind. Such sadness, that such darkness must come to these people. She cocked her head to the side and heard very light footsteps. She opened an eye very slowly to see Legolas standing in front of her.  
  
"What troubles you?" He asked  
  
"Oh, now you have concern for my feelings."  
  
"Are you always this irritable and sarcastic?"  
  
"Do you always treat non-elves with such condescension? As if they are so far below you? I know that it is not because I am female. Your most powerful leader, the Lady of the Wood is female. And the most beloved of elves is Arwen Evenstar. So, it must be because I am not full elf that you would treat me with such flippancy. Well, I must tell you. I am ¾ elf and ¼ immortal human. In a sense my kind is more powerful than your own."  
  
"You assume much my half-elven friend. My treatment of you is simply because I have many thoughts on my mind. Many worries. And because of your young age. You are but a child to most elves."  
  
"Age is a matter of experience, not years. You may find, Legolas of Mirkwood, that before your return home, you will have more experience and feel even more aged than your father."  
  
"How can you speak of such things, as if you know?"  
  
"I am part what you would call wizard and gifted with the secundum visibili, my people's term for the second sight. I can see what might happen. But the future is never a definite thing."  
  
"Then why do you tell me such things?"  
  
"You go to Imladris to tell the Lord Elrond that Gollum has escaped. Gandalf is there because a hobbit, named Frodo Baggins, heir of Bilbo, now bears the one ring of power. Elrond is to conduct a meeting, with representatives of each of the free peoples of Middle-earth; to select a group to journey to the fires of Mount Doom to destroy the Ring. Someone must represent the elves. You are a good warrior and one of the best archers. I just assumed you would be the elf to go. But I could be mistaken." Rhiannon took a long breath then looked to Legolas, "Your companions are coming. How much longer till Rivendell?" Legolas, lost in his own thoughts mumbled, "We shall be there by nightfall."  
  
Rhiannon was now riding behind Menepaurion, the other companion. He seemed extremely displeased that he must share his horse with her. Rhiannon did not understand the dislike and unease of this elf. Lostladion had spoken to her, if but a little, and there was always a tone of amusement in his voice. Even Legolas had treated her more kindly, since she had made mention of his behavior. This elf seemed tempted to throw her off the back of his horse. Rhiannon was very tempted to say something to Legolas; but she kept her tongue. As opinionated and hot-tempered as she could be she did not normally like to be the cause of trouble. So she decided to try something she had not tried with an elf for over a hundred years. She tried to send a mental plea to Legolas. She focused solely on him and asked the questions of why the rider distrusted her so, why he wanted her thrown off the horse, and if she was safe with such an elf.  
  
Legolas suddenly halted, almost causing Lostladion to crash into him. He turned and stared at Rhiannon with wide-eyes. She nodded, signaling she had just sent a message to him. Legolas turned and looked forward. Staring off into space for some time. Then he continued on, his gaze focusing on nothing in front of him. A voice came into Rhiannon's head,  
  
"How and why did you do that?"  
  
Rhiannon silently answered him, "Legolas, all elves have the ability to speak to people with just their minds. It just takes lots of concentration and most elves cannot be bothered with it. I don't wish to yell my worries to you. Why does this elf in front of me, dislike me so? I guarantee when you are not looking, he will try to buck me off his horse."  
  
Legolas seemed to consider her statement, but she could not tell because she could not see his face. "He was once engaged to a half-elven and still bears a bitter wound from loving her. He does not trust ones that are not pure elves. He does not even trust Lord Elrond. I do not know why he wishes to throw you off his horse but I can guess it is because of your looks. You do look remarkably like the half-elven that left him. I do not think that you should fear your safety, but I cannot guarantee it."  
  
"Then I wish to ride with Lostladion."  
  
"You seem oddly attracted to Lostladion."  
  
"He has shown me kindness, I feel safe with him."  
  
"Do you not feel safe with me?"  
  
"I do feel safe with you; but I can only imagine the sight we would make."  
  
"It would certainly put a frown on Menepaurion's face, let us stop this, my head is starting to ache."  
  
"Ooh, you're not used to having to concentrate. Did the prissy elf find he is not good at something?"  
  
Legolas suddenly halted the group once again. "My dear companions, I feel weary and would like to rest. The horses probably need the rest too. We are not that far from Rivendell and have no need to hurry the rest of the way, but let us do so just this once so we may get there soon and then have rest."  
  
The horses then started to run at a break-neck pace. The elves rode bare- back, therefore Rhiannon had nothing to grab onto, save the elf in front of her and she did not wish to touch him. So she begged the horse to not buck her off and dug her hands into it's side. The horse seemed to understand her distress and did not once attempt to throw her. She looked up and her breath caught in her throat as she spied Rivendell at sunset. It was a sight she would not soon forget. 


	3. Thoughts and Confusion

Chapter 3: Thoughts and Confusion  
  
"Friends are those rare people who ask how we are and then wait to hear the answer."  
  
Legolas was feeling many things at the moment. One was pure fury, the other was wonder, but fury was more prominent. Legolas did feel emotions intensely at times; fury like this was usually reserved for the battlefield. In all his years Legolas had not felt the need to yell at a female. Rhiannon was absolutely infuriating. She had deliberately provoked him with that comment about being a prissy elf. How dare she? And furthermore, Legolas was not bad at the mental and silent conversations; he was just used to only higher-ranking elves to perform such a thing. She had spoken to him as if he were but a child! True, he may have seemed like quite a youth to Galadriel, Elrond, Celeborn, Cirdan. Gandalf and many others of the wise; but he still had lived in more than one millennia and Rhiannon had not yet lived to see her first. And as much as he hated to, he did have to concede to her a point when she said age and experience do not necessarily go hand and hand. Arrogant little, whatever she was, mutt maybe. He considered the council he had received from his two friends. Lostladion felt the girl was harmless, only coming out from her home for a reason. Legolas was leaning more to Menepaurion's side, the mistrust of something so unknown.  
  
Rhiannon was in awe as she looked around Rivendell. She had only been here three other times: When she was 18 and just had discovered she was to live forever, being an elf and something akin to a wizard.. She had not yet learned to appreciate the beauty around her. The second time had been when she was over one-hundred years and that was in the nighttime, she did not get a good glimpse of the city. The third, she did not like to think about. Now that she was older and had lived longer she could admire the beauty of all that was around her. Admire the peacefulness that was such a part of the beautiful elven city. Elrond had done more than well.  
  
***  
  
Two weeks had passed since the arrival at Imladris and Rhiannon had not spoken to Legolas in that short span of time. Rhiannon did not like being avoided or ignored, her father had admonished her more than once for acting so conceitedly human. She had remarked on how many of the elves she had met acted even more conceited than she did. Oh, her father, how she missed him. The story of the world seemed to be long eras of turmoil with very few glimpses of peace. The tumult of her home land had led her here for safety. Now the tumult was coming here and what was she to do? She wished to speak with Gandalf, but he always seemed so busy and was starting to appear as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. She had decided to speak with Legolas, but he had been avoiding her. Indecisive little elf, one moment he distrusts her, then she is considered safe, then distrusted again, and now avoiding her. The very female side of her brain wished to purposely do something to make him even more uncomfortable just to see how he would react. The more rational side of her brain, the one that had been drilled into her, warned her that in the coming times, no bridges should be burned. So, she decided to seek the Prince of Mirkwood out. She traveled through the many mazes of gardens until she came upon Legolas standing in the middle of one of the fields, staring out into the great wide open.  
  
Rhiannon normally did not like to interrupt people when they were in deep thought, but the look of utter confusion on the elf's face compelled her forward. Lots had happened to the elven prince in the fortnight that had passed. He had been chosen to travel with the Fellowship in two months to destroy the One Ring of Power. She felt sorry for this being that had not traveled far beyond his own homeland's borders. Rhiannon slowly approached him, deliberately making a lot of noise so he would not be surprised. She spoke to him in a voice slightly above a whisper,  
  
"What troubles you so?"  
  
A ghost of a smile came to Legolas' lips, "I believe I once asked you a similar question and you avoided the answer. I don't know if I want to, or should, answer yours. Maybe I'll answer it with another question. Are you coming on our little quest?"  
  
Rhiannon slowly shook her head, "My road lies similar to that of Aragorn and Boromir, I go to Gondor. I may ride beside the Fellowship if we cross the same paths, and assist when absolutely needed. I am not a warrior, that is not my area. I can not willingly kill anything, I am terrified at the thought of battle. Unless times are so grim that my help is all that can get you from one place to the next, I will then join you on that particular road."  
  
Legolas looked down at her, "What do you mean by that statement? You do enjoy speaking in riddles don't you."  
  
Legolas had expected Rhiannon to give a small laugh but instead he saw that she had turned her face away from him so her eyes could not be viewed. He lightly turned her chin so he could see all the unspoken statements that lay within. In her eyes shone sorrow and compassion. Legolas' worries returned to him.  
  
Rhiannon spoke softly, "The road you will travel will be extremely dark and weary. There will be times when even you, my friend, will lose hope. But always know that there are people in Rivendell, the Shire, Mirkwood, Gondor, Rohan, Lorien, and the rest of Middle-Earth that wish you back home safely. The task is never truly done; once you realize that, you may feel wonder for why you even bother to continue on a seemingly futile mission. You must remember that all of you have a part and a future in this world. The Ring-bearer has his own fate, but there will come a time when you, Aragorn, and Gimli will hold the fates of many in your hands. When you think there is no more hope, remember my words and share them with the others."  
  
Legolas was silent for awhile, then turned to Rhiannon, "I am touched by your concern and I am amazed that one so younger than me can be so wise."  
  
Rhiannon smiled, "You are wise, Legolas, in your own way. You have been far removed from the wiser folk for some time and so do not realize just how wise you are. You're much more than an archer." A sly smile then came to her lips, "And a pretty-boy elf." Rhiannon turned to leave him with his thoughts, but as she walked she said to him, humor obvious in her voice, "And if you think I speak in riddles, listen to your own speech at times. Or talk to Gandalf."  
  
Legolas then let out a loud, musical laugh and for quite some time it seemed as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. 


	4. Elvish MatchMaking

Chapter Four: Elvish Match-Making  
  
"Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely"  
  
A few days later the Fellowship was preparing for their leave the next fortnight. Rhiannon observed all of them during different times from perches in the trees. All had strength and weakness and wisdom, even Mr. Pippin. All had folly, even Gandalf. They represented their respective peoples well and yet differed from their respective stereotypes. Gimli was a dwarf, but she was quite sure when exposed to all the beauty of this world, he would not take all the treasures outside of the beautiful caves for granted. Aragorn was a man, even if he was an elven friend, but he had managed for some time to turn away from the temptation of power. Well, that wasn't totally correct, unlike most men he seemed to fear his own power. Hobbits, from what she had learned here and knew from her homeland, were usually calm, happy creatures that never went on adventures. Yet these four hobbits had volunteered for the journey, and the three companions of Mr. Frodo insisted they had to go. The two young ones even issuing a challenge to Lord Elrond. Gandalf was not far removed from all the people, unlike most Istari, he did not look down his nose at others with less power. Boromir was like most men, he craved power but he had the heart of a true warrior, a true defender of his people. Lastly, Legolas, the archetype of elven-beauty and grace with less arrogance, haughtiness, and selfishness than many of the other elves she knew. Legolas, while he usual had a passive face, would reveal his emotions to others. To the good majority of elves you could run around naked with a bulls-eye painted on your behind and you'd be lucky if the response was more than a bat of an eyelash. Legolas would probably laugh or threaten the streaker with an arrow for fun. He seemed to understand immortality: What was the point of living forever if you did not enjoy all that the world had to offer?  
  
Assuredly, an elf had their good and bad centuries, and Legolas had gone through an awkward phase, but he was rarely a snotty elf anymore. It made one wonder what his mother was. Was she full-elf, half-elven? Why had their never been a mention of his mother? Now that she thought more about it, she had never heard of a Queen of Mirkwood. But, surely there had to have been one once. Quite a little question to ponder.  
  
Rhiannon went in search of Gandalf, wanting to ask the questions that had been brewing in her mind about Legolas' mother. She found dear old Mithrandir sitting with Elrond. In her life there had always been one constant, and that was Gandalf. Although in her lands he was known by one of his other alias, Sophus Amicus, the wise friend. He had not ventured much into her homeland, a land only reached by going farther north and east than any Ranger ever traveled.  
  
Rhiannon found herself drifting into memories of her homeland. Her people were not of one single, unifying race like Men, Elves, Hobbits, and Dwarves. They were not demi-gods like the Istari; though some like herself did contain a small portion of what would be called in Middle Earth, Istari blood. They were given many powers, but all powers can also be curses. Rhiannon knew this, none of her powers ever stayed constant. Some days she could read another's mind, then the next day she could not. In certain times, such as times of fear, she could perform telepathy, but not all the time. When she teased Legolas she had done it purely to get a rise out of him; quite precious how his jaw dropped and his cheeks got all pink like that. Her, what had been termed "second sight," was always with her; but the future could never truly be predicted. The smallest acts dictated the future of one's life. Trying to figure out the future, something Rhiannon believed no one should have access to, was often found to be a waste of energy and time that could be valuable. She knew her people would stay in contact with Middle Earth until the day Men could truly rule and advise themselves. She never saw that day coming.  
  
"What is on your mind, Rhiannon? You've been standing out there for quite some time." Gandalf's voice rang out.  
  
If Rhiannon was the blushing kind, she would've been quite pink now. Instead she allowed the embarrassment to show in her green eyes, just to see a smile come to Gandalf's worry-worn face.  
  
"I have jus been pondering about how the ability of second sight is quite futile." She answered the wizard. Lord Elrond made a sound akin to choking, something along the line of shock showed in his blue eyes. "Lord Elrond, that is quite a human reaction you just had."  
  
"Well, my dear Rhiannon, since I know you did not pay attention to your lessons years ago."  
  
"Blame your sons for that." Rhiannon mumbled, rolling her eyes.  
  
Elrond gave her the look he would have given a small child, "You seem to forget I was once give the choice to be a man."  
  
"Yes, back before the first ring was even created you were what could be described as mortal. I know. I honored my mother's wishes to learn the history and ways of her people."  
  
Elrond gave her a small smile, "She intended for you to wed an elf."  
  
Rhiannon tried to stop the hurt and darkness from entering her eyes, "As did I. I was quite in love, as if you didn't remember."  
  
Elrond gave a small nod, "I will apologize for my son's behavior once again. He was quite foolish then, but Elladan has never been and never will be the marrying kind. That does not mean you shall never wed another elf. Legolas seems to think that you and Lostladion have mutual attraction. I know he could convince his father to consent to the marriage of one of Mirkwood's great warriors."  
  
Rhiannon let out an exasperated sound, "Legolas should stay out of matters of the heart unless they concern his own."  
  
"Did Elrond say that this matter did not?" Gandalf asked.  
  
Rhiannon once again rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I did not come here for Elven match-making and riddles of an old wizard."  
  
"No, you came here for protection. But this darkness seems to follow you. Two types of darkness settle around you. One is the great evil that has come to re-awaken in this world; a land you, yourself admit you love so much. The other is continued heart break you will feel if you do not now take a chance and make a decision."  
  
Rhiannon rubbed her temples, "You confuse me, Mithrandir."  
  
"You have many questions that should not be asked until much later. You should go now and seek solace from your worries in the arms of a new found friend."  
  
"I told you I am not attracted to Lostladion!"  
  
"I do not speak of him. Honestly look into your mind and heart. First impressions aren't always forever."  
  
Elrond stopped the smile that came to his face from Gandalf's words, "And yet, they are."  
  
Rhiannon shook her head once again, an ache starting to form between her eyes, "You two are so very confusing and infuriating." Rhiannon turned and left the two elders.  
  
Elrond and Gandalf watched the young girl walk away. Mithrandir spoke to Elrond, "I believe a greater adventure of the heart and mind will be performed between our little half-elven and her 'pretty-boy elf'."  
  
Elrond gave a ghost of a smile, "With their pride and foolishness of youth, it will be quite an entertaining game to watch." 


	5. Pesky Elves, Wizards, and Powers

Chapter 5: Pesky Elves, Wizards, and Powers  
  
"Our real blessings often appear to us in the shapes of pains, losses and disappointments; but let us have patience, and we soon shall see them in their proper figures."  
  
Rhiannon closed her eyes as she walked away from the two claimed-to-be-wise- but-just-enjoyed-confusing-people males. The ache in her head from a few moments ago was starting to dull, but it was not yet gone. Rhiannon squeezed her eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the normally welcoming sunlight. Of course, it was very hard to see with her eyes shut and she was quite embarrassed when she ran into someone.  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be able to see the future,"  
  
A laughing voice said to her. Rhiannon looked up into the fair face of Lostladion. He was quite pleasing to the eye and obviously had a personality, something she found certain elves lacking, and yet she could not find herself attracted to this lovely elf. Elrond was right, as usual, that he was a favorable match, being a warrior and all. There was just something, lacking about the elf. He was intelligent and very skilled at what she had observed of his training; he just lacked the...humanity that Rhiannon had found in Elrond's son. The humanity she had even found bits of in Legolas. There was that damn question again, who was his mother?  
  
"Rhiannon, are you feeling well. You did not give me a quick-witted retort, I am feeling quite neglected."  
  
Rhiannon looked back at him, he was dressed in traveling clothes and she wondered at this,  
  
"Lostladion, you are almost as sarcastic as me, but you lack the talent my dear elf. The smiling face does not help your cause. Why are you dressed in traveling clothes?"  
  
"I came here in traveling clothes."  
  
"Don't be such an, what do you call them, orc?"  
  
"RHIANNON! That is quite the insult!"  
  
"If you can not take the teasing, do not hand it out to others."  
  
Rhiannon could have sworn she saw him almost roll his bright eyes, but he stopped short before the action was completed. "I am in my traveling clothes because I am going back to Mirkwood, along with Menepaurion. We would wish to stay with Legolas until he leaves with the Fellowship, but he would rather have us home. We must report to his father anyway, and who knows what additional evil will come to the darkness of Mirkwood. I understand you will be traveling to Gondor once Gandalf has left. Did you ever receive your council? And will you travel with the Fellowship?"  
  
"I have not directly received Gandalf's council, he has told me many things without directly saying them. I do not wish to stay in Rivendell longer than I must, for fear of seeing someone that I am not prepared to see. I will not travel with the Fellowship, though we go along similar paths. There may be times where I will see them, but my business for now is in Gondor. There is someone there I must speak with."  
  
"You speak with the mortals often?"  
  
Lostladion gave a small nod to show he understood. The two spoke a few parting words and then went separate ways.  
  
***  
  
The time of the Fellowship's preparations for their quest was coming to an end. Rhiannon had spoken with them all a few times, offering comfort to those she could, especially those adorable hobbits. They had great life in them, but she knew that all in the group had dark days ahead. One did not have to be gifted to feel the pure sadness in the air and land. Gandalf, the very annoying wizard whom she still loved dearly, insisted her questions about Legolas' mother were not to be asked until quite later. She considered asking Legolas himself, but felt that may have been a tad inappropriate. She wanted to offer something to the elf for comfort. And if Gandalf and Elrond would stop blatantly pushing her towards him, she might seek Legolas out. Those two were worse than gossiping townswomen. Here they were, two of the wisest in all of Middle-Earth, probably a few Ages between them, and all they can amuse themselves with is a seemingly final match- making. She swore it was because Elrond did not get to choose who he wanted for Arwen, and Gandalf never really had children. Or this was just their way of punishing her for all the trouble she caused as a child. Of course, to them, she was still very much a child. Rhiannon was positive Gandalf's hat was older than her, but enough of those childish misgivings.  
  
There was a pre-farewell feast, tomorrow there would be final farewells in the Great Hall. Rhiannon made the decision that she would have to speak to Legolas at great length before he left on this journey. He was known for being tireless and light-hearted, and someone would need to be of endless hope on this quest. She knew he would have his moments of doubt, as all do, but that was the way of life. It was odd to her, around Lostladion she acted playful, around Gandalf and Elrond, a spoilt child, and around Legolas, an advisor. Although she had learned long ago that everyone she met saw different aspects of her. This behavior was non-exclusive, everyone acted in similar ways. She had admitted to herself, that even though she knew little of Legolas, he had a presence that she missed dearly when he was not near. Rhiannon waited outside the dinning hall for Legolas to exit. Suddenly she felt a rush of warm wind around her. She felt the throbbing pressure start to build in her skull. Her last coherent thought was, "Damn powers."  
  
*****************  
  
Legolas peered out of the window. He had been observing Rhiannon since he saw her standing out there. He wondered briefly if she waited for him. The thought brought a small smile to his face. One that did not go unnoticed by Gandalf, who gave a small chuckle. Legolas shook his head; it was not the time for such thoughts. They left for the quest tomorrow, he needed to be focused. He did not need to be distracted by the mysterious little half- elven. No, ¾-elven. Legolas looked at Rhiannon again. She was gripping that railing awfully tight. Gandalf turned to him,  
  
"Legolas, will you please go check on Rhiannon? She does not look too well."  
  
Legolas gave a nod and swiftly walked towards where Rhiannon stood.  
  
The sight before him caused a small rise of panic. A look of deep concentration was on her face. There was a thin film of sweat forming on her forehead. Her arms were visibly shaking.  
  
"Rhiannon, Mani naa ta? Mani marte? (What is it? What happened?)"  
  
His question went unanswered. He lightly touched her arm. There was a sudden burst of energy between the two. Legolas tried to pull away, but a force kept his hand where it was. Legolas felt as if his mind was being rolled. As if someone was looking into his soul, finding out all his darkest secrets, and even things he did not yet know about himself. An almost hysterical fear started to well up on him and he pried his hand from Rhiannon's arm; the touch still burning deeply. He was left with the feeling of a swift kick to his stomach. Rhiannon did not seem to be faring any better than him, and he quickly reached out before she fell to her feet. 


	6. Occupational Hazards of Soul Mates

Chapter Six: Occupational Hazards of Soul Mates  
  
A kiss that speaks volumes is seldom a first edition. ---Clare Whiting  
  
Legolas sat on a chair in one of the healing rooms. Rhiannon was lying on a bed, still unconscious. Earlier, Elrond and Gandalf had informed Legolas to bring Rhiannon here and watch her until she awoke. He had not received any answers to his questions. What had happened out there? He felt as if something was missing inside him, it wasn't a bad feeling. It also was not a good feeling, he felt.violated. Gandalf had refused to tell him anything, saying there were too many eyes and ears in Rivendell to tell such things. He was informed by Gandalf to "take away Rhiannon's pain." That was a bit of a problem. How do you heal someone when they are not awake, you are not a healer, and when you touch each other it causes one to feel violated and another to be knocked unconscious? His attention was drawn to the bed as he heard a small sound. Rhiannon's brow was furrowed; at least she was showing signs of life.  
  
************************************  
  
Many pictures played across Rhiannon's mind. She remembered all she had first seen when Legolas had touched her arm. There was his birth, the first bow and arrow, his first competition, his first love and then sadder memories. There was him leaving home the first time, a day a friend had been killed by one of the spiders of the forest. There was the day he had his first kill, and the day he had his first heartbreak. The most touching were the memories of his mother. Memories he most likely did not remember. She was a lady beyond beautiful. Her hair was as straight and as pale as Legolas'; her bright eyes shone brighter than his own. She was a woman that radiated light and warmth. Then there was the day she left. A very young elf with wide eyes was forced to say goodbye to his mother, before he could even comprehend such things. A woman who was hidden behind a cloak that covered all, even her hands. There was such sadness, and now Rhiannon knew she had taken it on for him; had taken some of the burden of this pain away. But the pain combined with her own was almost too much to bear. Suddenly the memories were no longer those of Legolas. There was her own fears, her own nightmares, were starting to bring her to a darkness that she refused to go back to. There was another presence there with her. She could feel it now. It was a warmth to the cold. Warmth. Legolas always brought the feeling of warmth. He was like his mother. Pure warmth.  
  
"Do you wish to explain to me what that was?"  
  
A voice said to her sharply. Rhiannon blinked a few times and carefully pushed herself up. The room was a healing room, she had glanced them once. She turned towards the window, noticing that dusk was coming. She didn't have to look at Legolas to know what he was feeling. The emotions were rolling off of him; something an elf could usually control. He was confused and scared. Scared of her. He seemed very.human right now. Being around Legolas, a wood elf, she started to note the differences between the different types of elves. The Mirkwood elves were near human lands, they had most certainly dealt with the mortals more than once. Not that many wandered into Mirkwood these days, unless they wished to meet death. Either way, Legolas seemed to have something about him that seemed.innocent. She knew he was truly far from that. He was like...a bear cub. Precious to look at, but with an underlying fierceness. And that fierceness was very much around him now. He wasn't just scared. He was angry.  
  
"Legolas, you should be resting. Preparing for the mission ahead."  
  
He gave her a cold look, "You violated me." She had never heard such venom in his voice.  
  
Rhiannon could admit to what he said; even if it wasn't her fault. She didn't want to see all those personal images of his life. All the pain of his childhood, all the pain in his life. The elf that never truly fit in, still childish and mischievous after all these years. Once he did calm down, he would notice all of his precious emotional pain had been dulled. Rhiannon had taken some of it on for him. Nearly 3,000 years of painful memories, some she was sure even he didn't remember, had knocked her unconscious. Legolas had to notice something missing and wanted to know what truly caused it. She could understand his fear, she was scared herself. She made a move to touch his hand, but he quickly flinched away. That small movement caused her much inexplicable pain.  
  
"Legolas, I apologize greatly for what happened. It is part of who I am. Damn powers."  
  
"If you cannot control your powers than maybe you should not use them."  
  
"In this situation, I had no choice in the matter. That one power, I believe Gandalf calls it 'clairvoyance', controls me. I do not control it. I have not experienced it for at least 200 years. I apologize for the feeling of violation, I know elves are not used to dealing with that. I could not control it. I would never purposely do so, not to anyone. Ever. A weaker person's mind may have broken form the shock of that."  
  
Legolas stared out into the coming night. He did not seem to be truly looking anywhere, just as if he was off in his own world. Rhiannon took time to study him. To appreciate the strong structure of his face. The almost violet color of his bright eyes. The long hair that was almost white. It reminded her of some of the wheat fields she had glimpsed at home. He was not yet dressed in the clothes he would wear on the quest. It made Rhiannon sad that he would be leaving so soon, tomorrow. She took this time to memorize him, even though she knew she would see him again. Legolas then turned to her. Rhiannon's breath caught. She felt as he must have earlier today. As if someone was searching your soul. He lightly raised a hand to her face. Rhiannon felt her own memories of anger and hurt and distrust well up. Memories wanting to reach out to him, have him lift them from her soul. But she held back, not wanting to burden him. Legolas gave her an almost chastising look. Rhiannon could feel something around them rising. Power, most likely, but elves don't believe in magic.  
  
Legolas grasped her forearms. The heat he gave off almost felt like it was branding her skin. He tugged her closer to him. Rhiannon did not know how to react, but she did not pull away. She noted briefly that Legolas was moving them so close together, hardly any room was between them now. As she was almost sitting in his lap, she slightly pulled back; breaking the small spell he was weaving around her. Legolas traced his fingers around her face, down her neck, over her shoulders, down her arms, to her waist, resting there. The touch sent shivers down her spine, an odd reaction, but she knew what he was doing. He was memorizing her in his own way. She stopped his hand as it moved upwards to trace her lips.  
  
"No, Legolas. I do not want to cause a flare of the power. It is still beneath the surface."  
  
He ignored her quite plainly, and traced her lips so softly, that if she had not seen him do it, she would have barely noticed it.  
  
"There is so much pain and power in you. Two mighty forces warring for control."  
  
Before she could respond, Legolas moved quickly and crushed his lips to her own. The power within the both of them rose so quickly she could not control it. Yet, it was different. There was more warmth this time, and Rhiannon was the one at mercy. She tried desperately to fight back the memories of her past rushing forth, but knew it was futile. Legolas would be the receiver of her pain, as she had done for him. Pain in exchange for pain. Rhiannon, very reluctantly, pulled away. She did not wish for Legolas to glimpse all the memories and aspects of her life. No one in this realm, not even great Mithrandir himself, knew the true history and life of her people. And she would never entrust such knowledge to Legolas, only knowing him for such a short time. She was thankful to him, her whole being felt much lighter. She was also upset. For so long she had felt this bitterness, this pain of her past, especially here in Rivendell. Had carried that day when Elladan had ended their engagement with her for a very long time. The pain of having to flee her own family to protect them. Would he now feel that also? Would he become distraught? They could not afford that.  
  
"You should not have done that, Legolas."  
  
"Gandalf told me to. And now I understand why. At least I am feeling a bit more complete now."  
  
"Stupid elf. Stupid Wizard." 


	7. It Chooses For You

Chapter 7: It Chooses For You  
  
"One of the greatest weaknesses in most of us is our lack of faith in ourselves." Any outsider that would have observed the farewell between Legolas and Rhiannon would think their relationship was nothing more than that of mere acquaintance. She seemed to show more emotion towards the Man of Gondor than to the elven prince. For Rhiannon the goodbye was not emotional because she now had the knowledge she would see him again, even if it would not be in the best of times. For Legolas, it was the farewell they had shared earlier in the day, not necessarily intimate, more of a reassurance. She had once again put his mind at ease as she had done weeks earlier in the gardens. It was in no way a bitter parting among anyone. Rhiannon watched the Fellowship leave until even her keen eyes could no longer pick them up. Rhiannon knew this quest would result in many changes for all, neither good nor bad. And as much as the elves hated it, change was coming, and fast. And while she knew Lord Elrond had many things to ponder at the moment, she had many unanswered questions. And as has been mentioned before, this little part elven had no patience.  
  
Rhiannon walked swiftly to the study of Lord Elrond. She did not even bother to knock, knowing that he had already felt her presence, evidence to why no guards or servants were about. She saw him sitting at his desk, staring out into the open night.  
  
"Care to explain to me what passed between Legolas and I?"  
  
Lord Elrond did not even turn to look at her when he replied, "I have no need to. You already know."  
  
Yes, she did. She just did not want to believe, "Please, just tell me."  
  
Lord Elrond turned his gaze to the young being in front of him. Such a pleading look in her bright eyes. So much wisdom in one so young. She had already known the toughest battles of all to fight, the battles within yourself. She could recognize what the outcomes might be for others, but never realized that greatness that was destined to come out of her. While he was in the Undying Lands for the rest of time, her people, and her descendants, would be changing the world quietly and slowly. Learning to do what they had not learned on Middle Earth. That sometimes all must rule and all must be submissive. And she still needed to be treated as a child. To have someone older and wiser to promise her that those shadows in the dark were not real. She feared this, what could happen, what she was, what she could be, what Legolas could make her. Ah, the fears of the young.  
  
" Your souls, I believe that is the closest term, called out to each other. There is much about Legolas you do not know. And there is much that if you did know, you would turn away from him. That is why your heart or your soul has chosen for you and not given you a choice in the matter. You will not be able to survive with out each other now."  
  
Elrond could have laughed at the distressed look on Rhiannon's face. He held up a hand so she would not interrupt.  
  
"Rhiannon, patience, please. As long as one is alive, the other will live. It does not mean to be within close proximity of each other. The two of you have both been stubborn, childish, mischievous, independent beings. Now you have no choice but to depend on each other, to share pain and joy. You are intermingled, entwined, bound within each other."  
  
Rhiannon could not stop the smirk from coming to her face, "Isn't that usually some long, drawn-out, over-done, elvish ceremony? I remember many courting rituals last time before Elladan bedded me."  
  
"Please tell me you have not already."  
  
"Lords, Elrond, no! I have known him a few months and have just kissed him! What, exactly, do you take me for?"  
  
"Well, I, just.I."  
  
Rhiannon bit her lip to stop the laughter. The Lord of Rivendell looked like a fish. "Could it be? Is Lord Elrond flustered and speechless!?!"  
  
Elrond rubbed his forehead, his own patience starting to wane a little, "May the Valar be with Legolas! I grieve for the poor prince. It would take a stronger elf than I to be bound with you for all eternity."  
  
Rhiannon bristled, Lord or no Lord, that was not kind, "You are avoiding my question about the ceremony, and you are starting to piss me off!"  
  
"Such a mouth. Yes, there is usually a ceremony, but you two have never been...predictable. There would have been little time anyway. Your own journey has not even begun, I believe the ceremony will follow it. When will you leave for Gondor?"  
  
"That quick to be rid of me?"  
  
"I wish for you to follow close behind them. I also need another message delivered to Lorien. You can reach Gondor through the Golden Wood."  
  
"Very few pass through the Golden Wood."  
  
"You will have her permission. Galadriel will know you are coming. You have quite a presence my young friend."  
  
"So I've been told. I will leave in two days. I wish for at least one guide, a horse, and supplies, since I do not have any of my own. I hope it will not be too much trouble."  
  
"Of course not. I would never have you leave unprepared. I will send for guides as soon as I am able."  
  
"Thank you." Rhiannon turned to leave, but as she neared the door she stopped. "It is not fair, you know."  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"To have no choice in who you love."  
  
"Who spoke of love? I speak of the other half of your soul. It chooses it's own. You will never choose for it." 


	8. Lessons to be Learned

Chapter Eight: Lessons to be Learned  
  
"The future depends on what we do in the present."  
  
Two days later a very well-rested Rhiannon prepared to leave the peace of Rivendell. The only problem being, her two promised guides had not appeared yet. Damn elves. They have all the time in the world and make people wait an eternity for them. Yes, there was that short patience again. Rhiannon threw a glance at Elrond. They were in the dining hall, having a small morning meal. Lord Elrond did not seem upset that the guides had not yet appeared; as if he knew they would be arriving just in time, which he probably did.  
  
"Elrond, where are these guides of yours?"  
  
"They are coming. It is a long journey from Mirkwood, even for the swiftest elf and horse."  
  
"Oh, ok." Rhiannon walked away and then stopped once she comprehended what Lord Elrond had said. "Wait. Did you say Mirkwood?"  
  
"Yes, well, near Mirkwood. It is a long journey and I think we caught them before they had returned."  
  
"Please, don't tell me you asked those two."  
  
"If you are referring to Menepaurion and Lostladion, then yes. Yes, they will be escorting you as far as Mirkwood. They will return home, you will be guided as far as there or Lorien, wherever you may come first."  
  
"So, our journey has not even been planned yet."  
  
"One's journey is never planned, Rhiannon. Certain things may come into your path that cannot be accounted for."  
  
"You have no idea which way to send me."  
  
"I am an elf, one of the wise."  
  
"You've been using that excuse for how many thousands of years?"  
  
"You do make me feel weary, young one."  
  
"And you do make me feel annoyed, old one."  
  
"Rhiannon, I know you are not this childish. You are normally the most somber person I know, even more so than Gandalf. I swear, part of the Mirkwood Prince's personality has passed to you."  
  
"No, I was acting like a child before the whole bonding experience. I've just made the decision that I am aging far too fast for my young age. I spend too much time around people like you, and not those near to me in age."  
  
"The curse of your powers does that to you. You seek out the older and the wiser for many reasons. You find those closer to you in age, or those that still maintain the aloofness of youth, tiresome. This is not your fault. Experience makes one's life difficult, and ages you before time has the chance to keep up. You may find some of your youth replenished on this little journey of yours to the realm of Gondor. Then again, there may be such great weariness on your soul that you will find yourself becoming secluded to all those around you."  
  
"You speak for yourself also."  
  
"Either way this journey ends, I will not experience joy. I do not wish for darkness to rule our lands and yet I do not wish for my daughter to be taken from me."  
  
"She has a right to choose, all of your line does."  
  
"I am well aware of this, Rhiannon." Elrond spoke in a harsh tone. Rhiannon should have been angered, but she knew Lord Elrond rarely revealed his pain to others. She lightly rested her hand on his arms, willing a calm into him.  
  
"Lord Elrond, if she travels with you, she will die of sorrow."  
  
"If she remains here, she will die of sorrow."  
  
"It will be much quicker if you separate her from Estel. You know this, and you know it can not be avoided. The lost king is returning to reclaim his throne."  
  
"It will be an end for your people."  
  
"No, it will be an end for the elves. You forget, none of my people are pure elves. Pure anything for that matter. We will always live in this world. This world can not survive without having some, what they call magic, to help it along." There was silence for awhile. Rhiannon felt the need to see that small smile on Lord Elrond's face again.  
  
She shook her dark head, "I cannot believe my guides are two elves that have never been to Gondor!"  
  
"Don't worry, Rhiannon. I will send a map. Those two seemed the most logical choice. They are wood elves from Mirkwood, they are going in that direction anyway. They are accustomed to dealing with the darkness. They already know who and what you are. Be honest, little one, the less that they know of you and your powers, the safer you will be. Lostladion, at least, knows how to handle you. It is also a very good opportunity to learn of Legolas and his people. I know you have not spent much time among him and have many questions."  
  
"I still say you are a match-making elf. A smart one at that."  
  
"You do not love Legolas yet."  
  
"How could I? I do not know him. I care for him, as I care for all that I meet. I see beyond his appearance. He can be arrogant. He has a temper. He acts like a child sometimes."  
  
"He is exactly like you."  
  
Rhiannon opened her mouth to say something, and then stopped. She did not have a retort for that. She did notice the smirk that had settled on the countenance of the wise elf.  
  
Rhiannon looked at the two elves that had now entered. Lostladion and Menepaurion did not look very happy, and she could not blame them. From what she knew it was a long trip to Mirkwood, and they had wanted to go home. Would they stare in awe when the Golden Wood was reached? Would they even go that far? She had studied that maps, Mirkwood resided on one side of a river, Lorien the other. Now, was not the time for such questions. She just wished to get to the area between Lorien and Mirkwood without Menepaurion threatening to kill her. He was not the happiest of elves. Lostladion gave her a small smile as she approached them. The weariness of never-ending travel was on the two elves. Menepaurion looked like he was suppressing the urge to kick her.  
  
"Lostladion, Menepaurion, I apologize for having you return for me. If I was aware Lord Elrond would have chosen you as my guides, I would have left when you departed. I apologize again."  
  
Menepaurion started a snort, but stopped at the quelling look from Lostladion, whose light eyes blazed with an intense annoyance. Apparently Menepaurion could grate on other people's nerves. Lostladion then glanced down at her, and spoke.  
  
"Your apology is greatly accepted. We would rest tonight, but Lord Elrond needs you to deliver a message to the Lady Galadriel as soon as it is able. There will be no rest for many days."  
  
Rhiannon nodded her dark head, "I understand. I am able to endure long and arduous travel. Fighting, battles, they are not for me."  
  
Menepaurion looked at her, "And you go to the realm of Gondor by yourself! It is darkness and danger throughout that realm."  
  
"I will not be traveling to Gondor myself."  
  
"We will not even travel with you to Lorien!"  
  
"I was not speaking of your company. You are more than needed in your own realm. The more time we spend here debating, the more we waste. Once Elrond comes with his letter, we will leave."  
  
"Rhiannon," Lostladion spoke, "I am the leader of this journey. I am to say when we will leave."  
  
"Lostladion, I hold more power then you do. I say we will leave as soon as we can. You are already needed in your kingdom. I will not have us held even longer."  
  
*************************  
  
Later in the day the group headed out, taking a similar path to that of the Fellowship. All were gifted with elven sight and watched the Fellowship from afar whenever they could make them out. The three were very curious about the decisions sometimes made. The apparent unsuccessful journey up the mountain and then the entrance to Moria. It was all a riddle for the three, but they choose not to contemplate much. The elves were focused on their homeland and Rhiannon was concerned about Lorien. She knew she was not full-elf. She was not elf-friend to the Lady, but only those of Rivendell. She prayed they would let her in, the message from Lord Elrond being her key. The parting with the two elven guides was not a time of rejoice or one of sadness. She knew that one she would see again, and one she would not. The misery Elrond had spoken to her was starting to weigh on her. This tangible darkness from Mordor would affect all, none would be able to keep their innocence. Such sadness, yet a lesson to be learned. Rhiannon took a calming breath and then continued towards Lorien. 


	9. Confusion Most Prominent

Chapter 9: Confusion Most Prominent  
  
"Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you."  
  
Rhiannon was cautiously heading further into Lothlorien when a sudden vision came to her. Almost knocking her off her horse. It was dark, a chamber, small skeletons everywhere. All was darkness. There was a..troll? Fighting. She could see all the other members of the fellowship, all in periphery. Yet she did not see Legolas. She was viewing what Legolas himself was seeing. She knew what he was doing. Letting her see what was truly going on. She felt the emotions he could not let out because he had to have a clear head to battle. As many knew, elves didn't enjoy closed spaces at all. They hated any seeming form of limitations except for those that were more powerful. There was respect there, for those older, wiser, and more powerful then them. In Legolas' vision there was an underlying fear. He sensed that there was something more dark wherever they were. She guessed Moria for that is where she had glimpsed the Fellowship last. Rhiannon took many gulps of the fresh air around her; she tried to force the visions down. Not out of her system, but down enough so she would be able to concentrate. There was a sudden weight on her, she could not breathe. The vision came up into her mind, blaring. Fear, unknown and unacknowledged by Legolas before rose up. There was an orange light, flame. Then suddenly the vision changed. No longer through the eyes of Legolas, but through the eyes of a seer. She saw what was around the corner, what the Fellowship now ran from. The demon was made of fear, shadow, flame. Rhiannon tried to control herself, gain control of her mind and powers but knew it was futile. The horse under her sensed the distress and the last thing she heard was a fair elven voice yelling out to her.  
  
****************************  
  
Rhiannon heard soft elven voices speaking around her. Her translations were a little on the rough side, but she understood, 'Messenger of Elrond.' If only that. She opened her eyes slowly, the weight that had been on her was even more intense. Something darker must have happened since she had fallen off her horse. Damned powers, always causing her to miss key events. She was trying to remember all that she had seen. She knew that elves tended to have selective memories. The darkest hours were often remembered, but pushed back. An attempt to dull the ache. She would not prod Legolas' mind for the reason that she felt this sudden weariness. The voices in that beautiful language continued to flow around her rapidly; almost as if they were arguing. Their speech was too rapid for her to translate, she needed the common tongue. The tree elves around here all looked similar. All pale blonde hair and bright eyes. All with bows and quivers. If they had noticed she was awake, they had not acknowledged her.  
  
"My dear elves, if you speak in the common tongue, please tell me what is going on."  
  
One looked at her, he nodded to the other two to sit down.  
  
"It has been long since a member of the people of the Green Isle have come to us. You bear a letter from Elrond, it explains who you are and contains additional information on the Fellowship as it comes to us. Your powers have taken you over it seems, are you not trained?"  
  
Rhiannon shook her head, "There is no one to train me. The powers are not constant. They come and go."  
  
"Even if you dwelled here for many centuries the Lady of the Wood could not even train you in your powers."  
  
"They are not to be contained or constricted. They are a gift and a curse. Higher beings see fit to do their deeds through me. I am a vessel, a servant, I do not attempt to maintain control over something I have no idea of. I am shown what I am shown for a reason."  
  
Haldir stared at her intently, "You speak like a wise one, yet I sense youth around you. My name is Haldir, I am one of the Marchwardens of Lorien."  
  
Rhiannon gave a slight nod, "I am Rhiannon. And to answer your unasked question; I have not even reached a thousand years."  
  
"Nothing but a child, what a mystery."  
  
The comment was not meant to be insulting, therefore Rhiannon did not take offense.  
  
"A friend calls me an enigma."  
  
"Yes, that is more poetic." Haldir softly replied.  
  
One of the elves spoke in that lovely musical tongue. Haldir turned towards him, nodding his understanding, and then turned towards Rhiannon. "The Lord and Lady await. We must go."  
  
****************  
  
Rhiannon gave up trying to take in all the beauty around her. There were not words to describe this place. The tranquility that radiated in Lorien increased as they neared Caras Galadon. They were far from the Royal Talan. Rhiannon had picked the wrong border to enter. The elves left her at a certain area, saying they were needed to defend the borders. Even in a paradise no true peace could exist. The elves claimed she would find her way. The large tree where the talans existed was in the horizon. That was her entryway. She was expected now that she had entered this realm. Fear of her own bubbled up. While being in the company of Mithrandir and Lord Elrond was an honor, no matter how much she complained about them, it was not to be compared to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. There existed few royals among her own people. Of course there were leaders, all were truly sheep and needed something to follow every now and then. True royalty was not common, for the being, whatever race, had to be of a pure blood. Those were rare in her lands, and not always welcomed. There was pride in her people's diversity. That was a problem she did have with the elves. They were all very much the same, the elves of Rivendell being the exception. Their abilities of course differed, some more talented than others. There rank differed, but they physically looked the same. Rhiannon's brother was in Minas Tirith in Gondor. He would stand out there, but not in their homeland. In their homeland, his golden skin and light green eyes were the envy of many. How she did miss Brhagdan. He would kill her once he found out she was in Gondor. He planned on her to stay with the peoples of Middle Earth that not even the elves knew of. They were full nymphs, but their mischievous ways were not for her. She sometimes felt it needed to remind her brother she was no longer a child. Well, she was, but not really. Oh, confusion. Rhiannon looked up and gasped. She was standing in front of the path that lead to the main talan of Caras Galadon. How she had gotten here, it was a mystery. She turned and looked around, not remembering where she had walked from. Her father always said daydreaming was a needed but dangerous thing.  
  
Rhiannon neared what appeared to be the entrance. Elven guards stood watch, nodding to her as she passed. She wished to speak with them, but she knew that these elves were far removed from the outside world. They would not be familiar with her kind, and if they had been, they would not remember. All seemed to know who she was, and it became aware to her that these elves were gifted in ways in which she had not seen before. She followed a path that seemed to just reach to the sky. She glanced around, a little unsettled. She was in a tree, a palace among branches. This would take some getting used to. Rhiannon glanced ahead as a movement caught her eye; an elf beckoning her forward. She slowly stepped into the, well, room was the best word to describe it. It was not a receiving area but rather a study. Two beings, high elves most certain, sat, light radiating from them. The sheer power that radiated from their persons was enough to send a wave of shock through Rhiannon's suddenly heightened sensibilities. The power was greater then she had even sensed; the wisdom, deeper then she would ever comprehend. She was an infant, if not something younger, to these, the Lord and the Lady. More power was present in the Lady, Lord Elrond had informed Rhiannon of this. She had just never thought to experience it in such a way. She knew they were studying her, trying to figure out what was in her mind. Rhiannon did not know them, trust was not built, she tried her best to block them out and wasted her precious energy in the process. The Lord finally spoke.  
  
"You carry with you a message from Lord Elrond. May we see it?"  
  
Rhiannon demurely lowered her head and reached for the letter she had stashed away. She stepped closer, placing said note on the table in front of the two. The Lady Galadriel grabbed her hand before she could move away. Rhiannon was startled and so her defenses flared up, sending out a message of a threat to any that harmed her. The Lady quickly dropped her hand, as if she had been burned. Rhiannon stammered for an apology, not wanting to offend anyone.  
  
"I-I, apologize, milady. I did not intend for that to happen. You-you startled me. Please do not take offence. I have very little control over my powers an-and when I am frightened, insecure, when I am feeling any emotion quite strongly, they seem to act up."  
  
"Yes, they do and they always shall. You are one that is guided by her emotions, very much like mortal men. Yet you are not mortal, are you?"  
  
"As far as I know I am immortal. I have aged little for years."  
  
"A member of your people passed our way not long ago. You are all mysterious people. He also tried to block me out. Neither of you were successful, a large fight was given though. It is odd to think, if your betrothal had been finalized, we would be related. That was not meant to be, as you must have known from the beginning. You search for safety that can never be found; you have pain that you never acknowledge; you have confusion over what you truly are; all these riddles can not be solved with your new situation. The Prince of Mirkwood is not your answer nor solution."  
  
"Of course he is not. He is a key to the answer though, that is obvious."  
  
"Are you so sure?" The Lady looked at her with an intense gaze.  
  
"No one ever truly knows if something is guaranteed. Smallest actions can have major repercussions. I have confidence in this though, and therefore will stay with my assumption that the Prince of Mirkwood is a key to the solution to whatever my problem may be."  
  
"And what is your problem?" She asked softly.  
  
"There are many, and none I am ready to share."  
  
"Trusting others seems to be a problem."  
  
"Odd that an elf of Lorien should say that." Rhiannon bit her tongue at her insolence. That was not the most intelligent retort in the world.  
  
"I am sorry, it has been a long journey. I am in much need of rest."  
  
Lord Celeborn spoke, "Then you shall rest, and we will discuss this later. The Fellowship is arriving. It would be best if you do not make direct contact with them. Your presence may confuse them and distract Legolas, he has many questions to ask you and now is not the time."  
  
Rhiannon nodded as a sign of understanding and was then, politely, shown the way out. She was aware that her own curiosity must be held back. Although the Lord said not to make direct contact, that did not mean she could not observe. Ahh, yes, she was still a child at heart. 


	10. Visions By Moonlight

A/N: " ''" means it is a direct quote from the books.  
  
Chapter Ten: Visions By Moonlight  
  
"Everything in life is speaking in spite of it's apparent silence."  
  
Rhiannon had made yet another one of her great observations. The elves of Lorien, the Galadhrim, did not know the common tongue. And those that did were few and far between. She had no one to argue with. The elves of this realm had a great respect for nature, they were peaceful and content. Most did not know of the outside world, and while that ignorance protected them from much distress, they were also weakened by not knowing all of the outside world. The Lord and Lady begged her to not go any farther than the river Nimrodel, and even that was quite far away. They seemed to understand her need to be alone. Rhiannon usual chose to blend into the background; here she was stared at for her differences. She was sure the image of her brother must have stayed with these people and therefore they were somewhat curious about her. Rhiannon laid in the cool grass. The warm winter sun shone down on her, warming her from the slight chill in the crisp air. Rhiannon was enjoying this peacefulness. Ever since her last vision from Legolas she had felt an unease. There had been a small vision that had followed after she had left the Lord and Lady, it was just of a mountaintop, then she was suddenly pushed out. It made her feel as if something had gone terribly wrong, and Legolas was not willing to share this with her. At least not yet. She watched, amazed, as dusk began to settle on the land. She reflected on her day. Earlier she had heard a fair elvish voice signing, she did not know the words, and yet it had filled her both with warmth and sadness. Rhiannon knew she should return before darkness finally settled, yet she could not bring herself to move. She stayed there, staring into the sky as it changed, living in a dream-like state. Much like the elvish sleep, but not so. She woke with a start as she was gifted with a full image. Darkness, shadow, flame. Gandalf. Fire, orcs and goblins surrounding many crumbling staircases. There was a demon that stood in front of the powerful Mithrandir. And then..she was slammed out of Legolas' mind again, as swiftly as if someone had slammed a door. The vision did not offer her any comfort. She rose from her place of long resting and searched for a suitable spot to sleep for the night. She would not try to make it back to Caras Galadon until the sun again rose.  
  
************  
  
Rhiannon awoke with the morning. Her back was sore from having slept in such an awkward position. Sadly she was a bit spoilt, and used to sleeping in beds or on soft mats. It was her own fault, she should not have spent all that time staring into the sky last night. She continued on foot until her ears picked up on a sudden noise that caused her to stop in her place. The sudden sound of a heated argument drew her attention. She softly crept on the ground, her bare feet making little noise. She stepped over the ancient tree roots and observed the situation that was taking place. And suddenly bit her bottom lip to stop the laughter that was bubbling up. There stood members of the Fellowship, having just crossed the Celebrant and an argument was ensuing. Haldir insisted he must blind-fold Gimli, being a dwarf and all. Gimli was not very excited about such an act. Legolas claimed "A plague on dwarfs and their stiff-necks!" Rhiannon smirked, if she knew Aragorn they would ALL be traveling blind-folded or none at all. She was right in her assessment as she listened to the conversation  
  
" 'Come!' said Aragorn, 'If I am still to lead this Company, you must do as I bid. It is hard upon the dwarf to be thus signaled out. We will all go blindfold, even Legolas.'  
  
Gimli laughed suddenly, 'A merry troop of fools we shall look! Will Haldir lead us all on a string, like many blind beggars with one dog? But I will be content, if only Legolas here shares my blindness.'"  
  
Rhiannon laughed at the vision Gimli described and the flustered look on the elven Prince's face. She was sure that if she viewed his eyes she would see banked fury. He spoke in a cool tone,  
  
" 'I am an Elf and a kinsman here.'  
  
'Now let us cry: a plague on the stiff necks of elves!' said Aragorn. 'But the company shall fare alike. Come, bind our eyes, Haldir!'"  
  
The look on the face of Legolas was a sight that Rhiannon would not soon forget. My, my. Live over a thousand years and one can still manage to be a spoilt brat prince. Rhiannon was more than content to watch the little scene unfold, but a voice beckoned her. The Lady was speaking,  
  
"Come back, young one. Now is not the time for you to be seen. Let them have peace, and rest these next few nights. Return to us and rest your own mind, that which was so troubled hours ago. You know the way back, let nature and your instincts guide you."  
  
Rhiannon knew the Lady did not speak only of her return path to Caras Galadon. Rhiannon spared one last look at the now blind-folded Company. There were only eight, and she knew that there was quite a mystery and a grief that existed for the missing of Gandalf the Grey; yet none had dwelt in their true grief yet. There would be time for that later, even if the mourning and the grief was not fully needed. Tears are never shed in vain, they can allow for a beginning to occur. And the true journey for most of the Fellowship, had yet to begin. All would be changed forever, but at the end..At the end, eight would stand and one would not, and as of this moment not all were necessarily lost.  
  
A week later, Rhiannon had yet to speak to any members of the Fellowship, as she knew she should not. She had to hide many times to avoid Legolas from viewing her. He spent most of his time with his kindred, but Rhiannon was running out of energy and hiding places. She was wishing for conversation with someone. Nature said many things, yet she could never hold a true conversation with it. She knew of three here that were able to speak the common tongue. One, was Haldir, and he spent his time patrolling the borders. The others were the Lord and the Lady. The two spoke of many things she could never fathom and in riddles she would never be able to comprehend. The temptation to seek out one of the Company was overwhelming, but she knew she could not. She gave a sigh of frustration as she lay cradled between two tree branches. It had taken her quite a long time to climb up here. Rhiannon knew her strength was in her mind, not her body. The ordeal to get up here, with her long dress and cloak had made her not want to climb down anytime soon. All that work and now, as she glanced towards the ground, she realized she must move. That damn elf! Why could he never stay put? Rhiannon held her breath, hoping his perceptive ears would not pick up any light sound she made. He strode towards the base of the tree she laid in. His face was bathed in moonlight and sorrow shone in his eyes. He spoke softly, only for her ears to hear.  
  
"I know you are up there. I have sensed your presence ever since we crossed the border into Lothlorien. I do not know why you refuse to speak to me, and why you have run from me this whole week. What have I done wrong? Is it because I shut you out of my mind? I did not wish for you to find out about the fall of Mithrandir that way." He paused in his speech waiting for an answer. "Rhiannon, please say something."  
  
Rhiannon took a deep breath. "The Lord and Lady bid me not to speak to any of you and I can see their point. The Company must have rest and must also concentrate on what lies ahead. I myself have decisions to make. To be around all of you, to feel your true grief, to feel even just yours, Legolas, that would be too much. I promise you, one day, when this all has come to a rest of some sort, we will have a long talk. Now is not the time, nor will that time be near. Go rest your mind now, be it with elves or with the Company."  
  
Legolas gave a sad smile, "You have a very motherly quality to you."  
  
"So I have been told. Now go rest, and feel no worry tonight." Rhiannon watched as he walked off slowly, glancing backwards towards the tree she rested in. Legolas was like most elves, rarely did he share his emotions with others. This journey would make him more human. And that was not a bad thing. 


	11. Leavings and Arrivals

Chapter Eleven: Leavings and Arrivals  
  
". . .if we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything is ready, we shall never begin." Ivan Turgenev  
  
Throughout the next month Rhiannon slowly made herself known to the remaining members of the Fellowship. She knew the only members that felt comfortable around her were Aragorn and Legolas, a thing she expected and had always felt from them. The Hobbits of the Shire were known for their lack of trust when it came to outsiders. In fact, all the races of Middle Earth were suspicious of outsiders, of those not of their own race. They were learning though, and realizing, that with the passing of the elves came the passing of all the races other than men. If Aragorn fulfilled his destiny, it would mean that good would prevail in this world for some time. With that though came the loss of all things whimsical and magical. Rhiannon remembered something Lord Celeborn had revealed to her in one of their long and confusing (at least for her) talks. Something of the elven race always had to dwell on this earth in order for nature to sustain. Descendants of the elven race had to carry this on; this somewhat protection of the earth. Rhiannon had the oddest feeling that Lord Celeborn meant for her to be the one to implement the carrying out of this task in the future.  
  
Yes, there seemed to be some pressure there. Then again he may have just meant her people, that was always a possibility. For now Rhiannon did not wish to think of the future and her part to play in it. The Fellowship would be leaving this day, traveling on to futures unknown and paths unseen. Rhiannon had been informed to at least learn one source of weaponry from either Aragorn or Legolas before they departed. They had started on arrows, being an elf, Legolas had argued, it was only natural for her to learn their weapon of choice. It also meant that she did not have to be directly involved in battle. After almost accidentally killing quite a few of the Galadhrim it was decided that Rhiannon would not be taking anymore bow and arrow lessons. If Lorien was attacked in the coming days, Rhiannon would be in a big lot of trouble.  
  
Battle, wars, death, destruction. Occurrences to her that she had been so far removed from as a child. Of course wars occurred in her own lands, she knew what it was, had seen it's affects. She had grown up with war as part of her life, but she never had to fight. Her father had always seen to her protection, sending her to the faery and nymphs that lived hidden in hills, realms that few could breach and could only find if looking for them. She did not know how to use any weapons really, beyond being able to defend herself with a small dagger her brother had once given her. Swords, bows and arrows, all of those things were objects almost foreign to her. She knew one day she would have to pick up even the basic of skills to survive in this world, if only to reach her brother, but she still felt she would be better used for figuring out strategies. Who was she trying to fool? She just didn't want to fight. The idea of being in battle caused an uneasy feeling to settle within the pit of her stomach. It amazed her really, her mother had been an elf of Rivendell and yet her daughter knew very little elvish, knew nothing of fighting, little of the traditions of the elves, she could not handle their weapon of choice, she felt almost ashamed.  
  
Times like these reminded her that she was not really an elf. She was many things, and while predominantly elf, that was not all she was. She was almost the reverse of dear Aragorn; a man closer to the elves. Rhiannon, of elven blood, closer to the humans of this land. Aragorn had started sword lessons with her, and she felt much more comfortable with that. Much more sure of her target, even if her target was a heavily padded and obviously scared and stubborn dwarf. The dwarf had been chosen as her target practice simply because he had too much pride to admit to the fear of a female wielding a sword. She hadn't killed anyone by accident, that had to be a good sign. Rhiannon wondered who would teach her now, now that her teachers were leaving. She felt loss at seeing them go. Oddly enough, she had not spent the most time with the one she was bonded with. Rhiannon understood Legolas' deep need to connect with his kindred and therefore she choose not to accompany him when he spent the many hours talking with and listening to the Galadhrim. He did not seem eager to play translator. The Man of Gondor seemed wary of her and this was no surprise. He had never been around her kind, was suspicious of the unknown. The hobbits while seemingly drawn to her also seemed to feel fear. The last time they had seen her, she had passed out, not the best impression in the world to leave on one's mind. The dear dwarf was Rhiannon's greatest source of entertainment. He always had a story to tell and his voice inflections were priceless. Out of all though, her time was spent with Aragorn. They had this understanding of living in different worlds, among different peoples, never truly knowing where you fit in. The uncertainty he had been feeling, the blame he placed on himself for all that was happening, broke her heart. She reassured him, as she always had and as much as she could, that the future must not be worried about at this time. You cannot plan the end of the journey before all your tasks are done. If anything is unpredictable in this world it is the path one treads. The simple life course can be drastically changed by the smallest action. She was aware Aragorn found little solace in her words, but he found just enough to have a full night's rest before he and the others traveled once more.  
  
------  
  
Rhiannon watched the Fellowship depart, a whispered good-bye to Legolas as he stared from the small boat, seeking her out in the trees. Between the two there was an unexplored peace. When things settled they would have a very long talk about their pasts, their lives, their cultures. Rhiannon was brought back to her vision on the day she had bonded with Legolas and seen visions of his mother. She could not explain it but, she felt as if she knew who that woman was. If only Gandalf or Lord Elrond were here. The Lady of the Wood would most likely know the answer to her question, but the Lady made Rhiannon very uncomfortable.  
  
"It is because I know what you are, and what, if you choose wisely, will be."  
  
Rhiannon jumped as the Lady's voice reverberated in her mind. She truly hated mind-reading, it was such an intrusion. "Why is it that everyone seems to think I fear what I am?"  
  
"You do not fear what you are, Rhiannon. You know what you are. It is what lies in your future that you fear. You fear the power within you, you fear the bond you have with Legolas. A bond, I must say, that is being very neglected."  
  
"A bond can be neglected? How do you neglect something you can't control?"  
  
"Yes, a bond can be neglected, by ignoring it. And you can control the bond, you already have in a sense. You forced Legolas to let you witness the events on the Mines of Moria and he forced you out. The bond, the connection allows that. Even now, you sit up here thinking that a peace lies between the two of you, and yet you know better. Or you should. One so wise and then so blind to herself. You want to be closer to him, you wished to leave with both him and Aragorn."  
  
"They speak the common tongue and do not often confuse me; of course I would wish to be with them. I admit I have many questions about the past of Legolas, about his life. That is only natural."  
  
"Yes, it is. As it is also only natural how you sat and watched him at night wishing to be curled up at his side, to take away the anxiety that has been silently building inside you. To reassure you that you are not a disgrace to the elven race for not knowing a thing about us."  
  
Rhiannon's face faded into a blank state as the Lady voiced things she had meant to hide. Rhiannon had always associated the need for comfort as a form of weakness and therefore did not voice her want for someone to soothe her in the middle of the night. She did not let it show that she was feeling very uneasy as of late, knowing that something great was about to happen and an amazing sadness to occur. She glanced at the Lady, the strong, silent elf. She stood as still as a statue, barely blinking.  
  
"You know the fate that awaits you, Lady Galadriel, no matter the outcome you must leave this earth. All the elves know this, they have a place to escape to in case the darkness wins. I do not know my own fate at the end of these days. I have no place to escape too. I am bonded to someone that will eventually leave these shores and I can not follow him when he leaves. Do you understand the fear I have of that? Do you understand the fear of becoming so dependent on someone that you cannot function without them? I do not wish for that to happen; I do not wish for that pain."  
  
The Lady's silence continued. Rhiannon stood still as she was studied under the gravity of the gaze of the Lady of the Wood. Their stare was broken as an eagle squawked overhead. Galadriel smiled, "There is greater pain in never taking the chance to bond completely with the one that holds not only your soul but your heart. I know your mother told you of the sorrow so strong it can destroy an elf. Battle wounds can be healed, a broken mind can not. For both you and the son of Thranduil your strength lies in each other. You would have met eventually, for your ways do lie with each other. I have told you Legolas is not the answer to your great question. You have informed me that he is part of it and you are very correct. We will have yet another guest coming to Lorien very soon. When he leaves, so shall you. You will need to start taking your own council and providing it to others. You may leave with our guest, but you will not journey with him. Now, come, you must rest and gain strength. The coming days will be very trying for you, young one." 


	12. Changes

Chapter Twelve: Changes  
  
"No question is so difficult to answer as that to which the answer is obvious."  
  
Horses, the new bane of Rhiannon's existence. Not really all horses, just horses from Lorien that remembered when she had almost accidentally shot them with an arrow and was having fun trying to buck her off again. Beside her, the new and very shiny Gandalf the White sat on his horse, an amazing creature named Shadowfax. The eagle Gawahir had brought the body of Gandalf to the realm of Lorien. He had been reborn as Gandalf the White, what Saruman was supposed to be and had failed at. Gandalf did not have all of his memory back yet, having been in his true intangible form as a Meia, a god-like being. Anything in mortal form can be killed, and after the battle with the Balrog, Gandalf the Grey had passed and returned. Now they traveled towards Gondor; the realm of Men that bordered the dark land of Mordor. The Gandalf next to her appeared much younger, more full of mirth. And yet there was something more grave. The power that resided within him cackled under the surface, Rhiannon could feel his power. The intensity sent a shiver down her spine. He was quite talkative and having found out who Rhiannon was, and remembering her from his past mortal existence, he had not stopped questioning her. He was like a child and Rhiannon, when not begging the horse to not buck her off, was contemplating ways to shut Gandalf up.  
  
"So, you bonded with Thranduil's son; why are you not with him now?"  
  
"I am not a member of the Fellowship, I would be of little help to him."  
  
"The battles of the mind are sometimes more trying than the wars of the battle field. You will realize this, you have so much growing to do. Oh, how I wish I could see you when you finally come into your own, finally mature. Then again, I will always be looking out for you, little one. We all will." Gandalf stopped that particular tangent and looked around him, listening to the whispers of nature.  
  
Rhiannon watched him, confusion showing plainly on her pale face. What Gandalf was listening for, she herself could not hear. He raised his silver head and stared into her eyes, perceiving something about her, not visible to her sight. "We part here, young one. I must go into the forest, you must track the three hunters."  
  
"The three what?" She asked in much haste.  
  
"Seek him out, and he will guide you. Do not take the horse, we let them go here also. They know where to go." Rhiannon gave a nod, still confused but understanding what Gandalf was asking, what Galadriel had pushed her towards. Seek Legolas out, his presence, call to him, have him guide you to where he stands. Gandalf helped Rhiannon off her horse, they both watched as the two graceful beings rode off. Gandalf gave a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and then turned towards the forest, leaving Rhiannon on her own. Rhiannon walked around the perimeter of the forest. She wondered which forest it was; she could feel it's age and it's anger. The age could not be placed by her in terms of years. She listened and heard the sounds of horses far off, however they were not the ones she had just been near. Rhiannon closed her eyes and let the warm sun shine down on her. The warmth helped to center herself in order to summon the mind of Legolas. She took many deep breaths, taking in the smell of the fresh and tangy air, so different from that of Lorien. She heard the secret conversations of nature around her, speaking of many things. Whispers of dark beings running day and night, having been destroyed. Legolas had informed her of beings like those, Orcs, she believed that was the name. Legolas. That was where she had to center her attention. Most would picture his face and try to call out to that, but Rhiannon needed to call out to his soul. She thought of many things, the playfulness and arrogance of the prince mixed together; the soft voice that explained traditions she was just learning, all in a voice full of mirth; the look of utter shock that came over his features whenever her powers came to the forefront. The little pretty-boy elf that she was apparently stuck with forever, a thought that filled her with a mixture of fear, happiness, and contentment. Suddenly it was as if a door opened within her mind, the visions playing behind her eyelids took her to where Legolas was, she once again witnessed what he was seeing. Aragorn and Gimli were also with him, the others missing. This did not weigh well with Rhiannon. There was an urgency in Legolas, a need to find something. They were on horses, Gimli riding behind the elf and complaining of the horse ride. They were not far from the forest she now stood near. She watched as they neared what seemed to be a battleground recently fought on. Rhiannon noted the area they were in and then closed the connection. She took a moment to regroup and then moved as quickly as her two feet would carry her to the area she was guessing the elf, the man, and the dwarf now searched, for what she did not know.  
  
The night had come and dawn was near. Rhiannon had found her friends but chose to rest far from them. They had already encountered one visitor in the night, and where not happy. There was apparently an old man, they chose to believe as Saruman, that came in the night. The horses the three had traveled on had disappeared, but were not harmed according to the elf. Legolas was on watch now, needing less rest than the others he had taken more than one chance as the look-out for the night. If he had sensed Rhiannon, he had not shown a sign, had not come to find her. Rhiannon was waiting for the dawn; it was not far away. She watched attentively as the sun rose on the horizon; bathing the morning sky in pale pink light. Moments like these showed just how insignificant men, elves, dwarves, hobbits and all the like were. All their powers used together could never create something so beautiful. Would this be less beautiful if all elves left the world? Besides the Tree herders, called Ents, as Gandalf had told her on their travels, the elves seemed the closest to the true magic that is nature. Would Aragorn represent the true balance needed for elven magic and the beauty of nature to survive in the world of Men? Her long contemplation stopped suddenly. She heard a sound around her, someone walking, very quietly. Her whole body tensed and then relaxed as she recognized the presence of the person behind her.  
  
"Well, look what I have found on this lovely dawn."  
  
Rhiannon let a smile come to her face, "Hello, my friend." 


	13. It's a Good Thing You're Pretty

A/N: The parts of the chapter done like this: " ''" means that it is a direct quotation from the book.  
  
Chapter Thirteen: "It's a Good Thing You're Pretty..."  
  
"Love someone that will make you smile, even when nothing funny is said."  
  
Legolas stood, watching as Aragorn talked to a person settled in the space between to rocks. He knew who laid nestled in the rocky crag, had felt her enter his mind yesterday. He wondered why she was following them, and then was happy at the thought of seeing her. He wondered if her archery skills had passed into something that could be considered satisfactory. Some were made for strategy, some for fighting, some made to sit back and make comments on how elven soldiers looked like, ants? Ants, that was the word Rhiannon had used. She was quite the., well there were not proper terms to describe. He watched as Aragorn held a hand out to help Rhiannon stand.  
  
"Hello, friend." Rhiannon smiled up into the face of Aragorn, the man destined to be king. He gave her an affectionate smile, as one would give to a child.  
  
"What brings you along this path? Why are you not safe in the Golden Wood, learning the ways of the elves?"  
  
She smiled back at him, "I traveled with a friend, who has now gone to some other place. I was told to seek out the three hunters, I am guessing that refers to you and the other two you travel with. Where is the Man of Gondor, should he not also be on this path?"  
  
A shadow passed over the face of the man, "Boromir of Gondor has passed into the land that the fallen heroes tread. He died defending the younger of the hobbits. They were taken by a race of Orc and Goblin men, called the Uruk-hai. Frodo and Samwise have gone onto their own path to destroy the ring. We look for the younger hobbits now, believing they have gone into Fangorn Forest. I dread going in there."  
  
"Why?" Rhiannon inquired, happy to know the name of the wood they stood outside and yet still confused about why the Ranger dreaded to go into the forest.  
  
"I tend to forget that you are not that familiar with the history of Middle Earth. Well, at least this part of Middle Earth. Fangorn may be one of the oldest places you will ever have the grace of being in. The power here can be felt, tasted. Many fear to travel into these woods, fear of the unknown and the ancient. Now, let me help you up. We are searching for the younger hobbits and each wasted moment of daylight is a wasted moment to find them." Aragorn reached his hand out, helping her up. Rhiannon glanced down from where she stood, watching as Legolas and Gimli prepared for the trek into the forest. Rhiannon turned to him, "Are you sure Merry and Pippin are alive and in the forest?"  
  
"No, last night when camp was made, it was too dark to find any signs they may have been near. Now with the dawn, I shall search for signs."  
  
"Oh, you shall? So, on a hunch you lead your two companions, and now me, into a forest you fear to tread into on the basis that you 'shall' find evidence of the hobbits. Well, when we get lost and go into the forest in vain, it will all be your fault."  
  
"Rhiannon, you are not good for my self-confidence. I am a Ranger of the North, I know what I am doing."  
  
"Of course you do, it's just your doubt that lies in the forefront of your mind that worries me."  
  
"Well, you are not helping my self-doubt, in fact you are increasing it."  
  
"Well, I."  
  
Rhiannon's retort was cut off by the yell of a dwarf, apparently having heard the basis of the current argument through an elf that was putting his perfectly-pointed ears in places they should not be.  
  
"When you two decided whether or not Aragorn is full of self-doubt or overly self-confident; I would like to remind you in the meantime that we are tracking two small hobbits last seen in the hands of the almost foulest of beings. So, please, put things into perspective!"  
  
Rhiannon and Aragorn both held their laughs back as the Dwarf scolded both a noble Man and a being of elven heritage.  
  
******  
  
Rhiannon was trying everything to keep herself from calling the three males in front of her idiots. There had been found remnants of Lembas bread, elvish waybread, complete with Lorien Mallorn leaf; pieces of cut cord, and a knife, obviously of that foul race of beings, the Uruk-hai. Obviously the hobbits had cut the rope, had a snack, and got away. But, no, the elf had to bring in his extra-perceptive opinion:  
  
" 'Well, here is the strangest riddle that we have yet found!' exclaimed Legolas. 'A bound prisoner escapes both from the Orcs and the surrounding horsemen. He then stops, while still in the open, and cuts his bonds with an orc-knife. But how and why? For if his legs were tied, how did he walk? And if his arms were tied, how did he use the knife? And if neither were tied, why did he cut the cords at all? Being pleased with his skill, he then sat down and quickly ate some waybread! That at least is enough to show that he was a hobbit, without the mallorn-leaf. After that, I suppose, he turned his arms into wings and flew away singing into the trees. It should be easy to find him: we only need wings ourselves!'"  
  
Rhiannon shook her head. This was who the gods choose for her to spend eternity bound to? Whoever did she anger in the past? She raised an eyebrow at the elf, "Legolas, it's a good thing you are pretty."  
  
"Whatever do you mean?" He asked, with true confusion in his voice. Rhiannon was almost speechless.  
  
She turned to Aragorn, "Please tell me, I beg of you, you have a better theory on what happened to the hobbits."  
  
Aragorn smiled, trying to hide his laughter. He did have his own theory and it was very similar to the one she had just figured out in her own head. Note to self, the logic of the elf, is far from common sense. Do not ask him to judge a scene of mystery, he will take the route of fancy.  
  
Gimli was not to keen to go into the forest; no one was really. Rhiannon did have a feeling that a very special friend did await them. She forgot that the three did not know Gandalf had returned in some form, she had this feeling that they were not to know yet, and so kept it a secret. Gimli spoke of his feeling that the forest was malevolent. Legolas remarked that it was not evil, it was just old and had witnessed many things. There was some anger in the air. Legolas studied the forest in amazement, stating that being in the ancient forest was the first time on the trip he felt young among the others; children he had chose to call him. Rhiannon had remarked that while they may seem like children to him; at least all their eyebrows matched their hair color. A laugh was shared among all, a lighter mood needed to continue on. Legolas looked around wistfully, obviously in love with the forest. Eh, wood-elves, only kind that would be comfortable in a place full of this much intensity. They walked into the forest, getting deeper into the dense foliage. As they walked, Legolas came to stand beside her.  
  
"When I felt your presence with me yesterday, I was very intrigued. Why would you be trying to contact me if you were still nestled in the safety of Lorien, like I hoped you would be. Why bring yourself willingly into war, a place you have no wish to be involved with. You are not a fighter Rhiannon, you should not be here."  
  
She turned to study him, while still managing to walk, she studied his face. His expression impassive, his eyes full of worry and some anger. Frustration at her really. She was starting to see the change that was occurring in him. While being an elf of Mirkwood, witnessing the orcs and large spiders hurting and possibly killing elves he had know; the loss of the human Boromir seemed to have effected him greatly. It must have been like seeing a child die to Legolas. It must have been rare to see one so young go. He had seen death, this was true, but those were beings that had lived for at the very least, a hundred years. He did not want to see her feel the confusion, the pain, he was now dealing with. He did not want her to get harmed from the battle, this was all obvious. She was truly starting to realize how little they knew about each other.  
  
"Legolas, I must get to my brother, or at least have a summons sent for him to meet me somewhere. It is imperative that we are together. Once I get him, I will return to this area, I do not plan to be outside the realm of Lorien for long. A summons may have already been sent to him and he may be coming this way to join me. You should not worry about me, I will be fine. Keep your focus on the task ahead, keep your eyes wide open and your ears attentive to all that speaks. If I need you, trust me, you will know. When this is over, as I have told you before, we shall have a very long talk. Although, I fear we will not have much time together."  
  
Legolas gave a small laugh, "Why would you say that, I am not going anywhere, and I do not plan on dying anytime soon."  
  
"I said nothing about dying."  
  
Legolas gave a nod, not wanting to ponder the words Rhiannon had spoken. Why was it that whenever the future was revealed, in all it's mysterious rhymes, it was always of a grave nature. There never seemed to be happy predictions. Or maybe darkness was only revealed so that the light could be more cherished and enjoyed. The group had decided to climb up a rocky stone- stair. Legolas had the need to breathe more fresh air that could only be reached above the brush of the forest. Rhiannon and Gimli both mumbled about the stairs, not enjoying the climb. They all stood on the hill, looking at the ground below, surveying all they had traveled. Aragorn noticed the markings of the hobbits. There was a very fair chance that the youngest of their hobbit companions were alive. Legolas gazed out into the forest, suddenly excited at the sight of an old man moving among the undergrowth.  
  
" 'Look!'  
  
'Look at what?' said Gimli.  
  
'There in the trees.'  
  
'Where? I have not elf-eyes.'  
  
'Hush! Speak more softly! Look!' said Legolas pointing. 'Down in the wood, back in the way that we have just come. It is he. Cannot you see him, passing from tree to tree?'  
  
'I see, I see now!' hissed Gimli. 'Look, Aragorn! Did I not warn you? There is the old man. All in dirty grey rags: that is why I could not see him at first.'"  
  
Aragorn seemed to agree with the other two that this was the evil wizard Saruman. Rhiannon tried desperately not to roll her eyes but she was not successful. "Please, do not let them be that stupid. Please, let one of them have the sense to see who that really is." No such luck. The figure came upon them as the "hunters" prepared to attack the old "man." Rhiannon stood back, prepared to watch the astonishment that would grace her three companions' faces. Legolas seemed to sense that it was not Saruman as there was hesitation in his timing to release his arrow. Rhiannon blinked at the sudden bright light as she heard Aragorn mutter,  
  
"It cannot be." 


	14. Memories of Childhood

Chapter 14: Memories of Childhood  
  
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts. -- William Shakespeare, King Henry the Sixth  
  
It had seemed months since Gandalf has appeared to the three hunters and Rhiannon in the forest of Fangorn. Months since they had mounted the horses that had returned on Gandalf's call and headed to the kingdom of Edoras. Long days since they had entered the hall of Meduseld and Gandalf the White made his appearance to all, and had forced the poisonous spirit of Saruman out of King Theoden, Master of Rohan. In all honesty it had been a day. The sun had set on one, and rose this morning as they arrived in Edoras. Never had a day seemed so long to Rhiannon, and yet she knew that there would come a time where she would wish for a day like this. They had spent the better part of the past two days riding at a break-neck pace on the horses. When they had stopped the night before, even Legolas found himself in need of sleep. They were to set out again on the horses in only a few hours, the realization that time was truly running out.  
  
Rhiannon sat on a step, staring out among the people that gathered all they needed to travel to the Hornburg and to Helm's Deep, the fortress that had never fallen for those of Rohan. She had memories of times like these. She raised her head as Legolas approached her,  
  
"What are you thinking about?" he inquired.  
  
"My childhood." Rhiannon simply replied.  
  
"Will you tell me?" Legolas asked with slight hesitation, fear still present from the last time they shared memories. Rhiannon motioned for him to sit down next to her. She lightly held his hands in her own; quite a task considering his hands were much larger than hers. She studied his hands, hands that could bring such comfort through touch, and such violent death by use of a weapon. He had some clauses on them, testament to the time spent with the bow and arrow, with knives and swords. She lightly traced the lines that criss-crossed his palms. Legolas jumped at the contact. Rhiannon gave him a mischievous smile and lightly blew a path of air along the line she had just traced with her fingertip. Purposefully she played on his enhanced senses.  
  
"Do you really wish to know what is in my mind?"  
  
Legolas had an almost feral look on his face, sensing her little game. "Mischievous children must be punished; or pay the consequences for their curiosity."  
  
Rhiannon smirked, "I was never punished and I always thoroughly enjoyed the consequences of my curiosity."  
  
Legolas gave a huff and tried to pull his hands away but Rhiannon held them tight. "Calm down, elf. I will let you know what my memory was of, even though you shall not understand it. Ready yourself."  
  
Rhiannon held her palms above Legolas, resting his hands in her lap, she recalled her memory. She was a very young child, even to mortals. Her village was being attacked, fires being lit by arrows shot from enemies. Chaos reigned below as she watched from the window in her father's bedroom. She remembered being scared. Father was off on a hunting trip, her mother had just left for Rivendell to visit her people. Brhagdan had been left in charge of the house, but he had gone to the home of the young lady he was planning to court. Rhiannon did not know where to hide, who to run to. She was only nine years on this earth, she was too ignorant of the world to be as scared as she should have been. To this day she could not figure out what had guided her to the hiding place she stayed in for two days. The being had been light and warmth; two feelings she had always associated with Legolas. However she knew it was near to impossible that he was the being that had guided her through life. That warmth and light had always been there when she could not find her path, she always thanked the higher powers for blessing her with one that watched over her. After that battle her father had always made sure a servant was ready to whisk her off to a safer place. Both her parents and her brother felt guilt that Rhiannon would feel the emotion of abandonment at such a young age. They did not know that Rhiannon had never felt abandoned in those times, she always had the presence, almost like a mother to her..Rhiannon abruptly stopped her memories, her thoughts, and forced Legolas out of her mind. She just had a moment of revelation. Legolas jumped up at the same time she did.  
  
"What is it? What has happened? What has upset you?" Legolas reached out and softly ran a hand down the side of her face, giving his touch to offer her comfort.  
  
Rhiannon grasped his hand that now held her chin in it's palm and shook her head, "It's nothing really, just something I must speak to Gandalf about." She stopped, and lowered his hand from her face. She willed the childish glint back into her eyes, " Is your curiosity quenched now that you have seen what is in my mind?"  
  
Legolas gave her a playful smile, "Not hardly." He reached a hand out again, tucking her hair beyond her ears, to view their slightly pointed shape. "You were an adorable child. Your hair has become even more of a startling contrast to your skin now."  
  
"I spent more time in the sun as a child, more time to climb in trees and play in rivers and meadows, less time spent contemplating the mysteries of life."  
  
"Was that younger man your brother?"  
  
"One of my brothers, the one I am closest to in age, there is only fourteen years between us. His name is Brhagdan."  
  
"His coloring is much different from your own."  
  
"We have different mothers. His was a High-Priestess of one of our lands, a far off place in a desert-like land."  
  
"Desert?"  
  
"Hmm, how to explain this to you. Do you know what sand is?"  
  
"Yes, it is around the gates of Mordor I have been told."  
  
"Well, deserts are like that, made up of sand, more of a golden color. His mother came from these lands, she is a beautiful woman. I have always coveted my brothers golden skin, his beautiful green eyes that stand out so much."  
  
"Your people are very.different in your looks."  
  
"We are diverse, we see many different things as beautiful in others. All are allowed to decide what they find beautiful, and to try to attain that. It is both a good and bad thing."  
  
"Your land sounds very interesting."  
  
"All things that we are not familiar with are seen as interesting, because they are different." Rhiannon paused. "You should go prepare for the journey, check that we have everything, I must speak with Gandalf." Legolas gave her a small nod and slowly turned around, glancing back at her once as he made his way to the stables.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon found Gandalf speaking with Aragorn, he gave her a look and simply said, "What you think is true. His mother was assigned to watch over you. Now is not the time for such questions. The Lady sent a summons for your brother before we left, he is on his way and shall arrive before nightfall tomorrow. Go and enjoy the small space of peace with Legolas, you will be separated soon from us all, you know why."  
  
Rhiannon gave Gandalf a nod, not the least surprised that he knew what was forefront in her mind. She dreaded what the near future held but was quite ecstatic to know she would soon be with her brother.  
  
Rhiannon ran down the stairs and almost collided with King Theoden's niece, Eowyn. The young woman had the heart of a warrior, and yet lived in the land where she would never have the chance to show it. She was a beautiful caged bird, who fancied herself in love with Aragorn. Rhiannon smiled at the woman who looked up at her with frightened eyes, like a small child. She would get happiness, just not in the ways she so thought. So young and yet so cynical about life. Wait, where had she heard that before? This must be how Gandalf, Elrond, Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, even Aragorn and Legolas must feel when they viewed those younger and more innocent then themselves. It was like looking at a child. Eowyn's eyes traveled over Rhiannon,  
  
"You are not an elf-maiden, are you?"  
  
Rhiannon bowed her dark head, "No, I am not. I am something..else."  
  
"Then why are you traveling with the others. I believed you the wife of the elf, but why would he marry one that is not an elf?"  
  
"I am traveling with the others only until my brother comes into contact with me. Elves do, and can wed, outside of their race, even though I am not the wife of the elf. I am more his.well, I am one that will always know him. Nothing for you to worry about, you should prepare for the travel ahead. Do not get that expression, I am not scolding you or saying you are not fit to wait until the last minute like those foul males. I simply believe in being prepared."  
  
The young woman seemed a bit taken aback that her thoughts were read. Rhiannon had to remember that the race of Men in this part of the world was not comfortable with the mysterious. She watched Eowyn continue up the steps into the Golden Hall. Rhiannon went in the opposite direction, into the dark stables. 


	15. Brotherly Love

Chapter Fifteen: Brotherly Love  
  
" Even though we appear to be sewn in a different pattern, we have a common thread that won't be broken-by people or years or distance."  
  
Rhiannon walked as quietly down to the stables as she could, hoping to surprise the elf. For some odd reason, as long as this day had been, she was in a very playful mood and felt the need to tease Legolas more than she normally would. She willed her footsteps to a sound almost like silence, she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, so as to not be shown to the men in the stables. She did not feel the need to answer anymore question on what exactly she was today. It was hard to explain, half-elven they got, 3/4 they did not.. How hard was that to grasp, her mother was a full elf, her father's mother was an elf, not that difficult. She stopped her pondering as she realized someone was following her. The stairways of the stables were dark, torches not being lit at the moment, just enough sunlight filtering in through the long thatched roof to see the step in front of you. She stopped and turned, staring into the darkness, trying to sense the presence of the being she knew was there. She felt a sudden rush of wind past her face and knew that the being had moved past her. By the scent she knew it was male, he smelled of forest, of ashen wood, and she knew it was not Legolas. She prepared herself, ready to run if this person came forward. She quickly moved her hand into the pocket hidden in her dress, she grasped the small dagger, the precious gift her brother had given her, the only weapon she knew how to fight with. She concentrated on the thought of light, of warmth, praying that it would allow her to see more into the darkness, willing for more sunlight to filter through. Trying to at least see the face of the person that now occupied the stairway, now right below her. A quick arm swiftly disarmed her, a rough voice stated,  
  
"Potes currere sed te occulere non potes, avicula" (You can run but you can't hide, little bird).  
  
Rhiannon shook her head, and was about to curse the man in front of her when he was suddenly lifted off of her, thrown against the hard stone wall. She knew it had to be Legolas,  
  
"Legolas, No! Stop! That is Brhagdan, my brother, let him go!"  
  
"He tried to attack you!"  
  
"He was testing me, you idiot! Believe me, if he meant to cause true harm, I would be close to death now."  
  
"I do not want you here in the dark," Legolas spat out, as if punishing a child, "Go to the stables, get into the light."  
  
His cold tone surprised her. The elf chose anger over fear interesting.  
  
"Stop being an ass, Legolas, my brother would have you flat on your back if he meant to cause harm. Let him go, now!" Legolas removed his hand from Brhagdan's throat slowly, his eyes flashing like that of a cat's in the dark. Rhiannon reached for Brhagdan before he could return the "favor" Legolas had just bestowed upon him. Men, honestly. You live 900 years, they still treat you like a child. Rhiannon gave Brhagdan the hardest squeeze on the hand she could, warning him to stay back. She nudged Legolas forward, pushing him towards the stables. The first meeting between her brother, and the elf, had not gone as she had planned. Not at all.  
  
As they walked into the stables, Rhiannon shoved her brother off to a place to sit. She did not want him to say anything rash at the moment. Legolas was not in the best of states at this time. There was a slight quiver to his hands, his eyes still held fear. Rhiannon took one of his hands within her own. Lightly rubbing a circle into his palm with her thumb.  
  
"Legolas, what is wrong? Why are you so frightened?"  
  
Legolas took a small, shuddering breath, "I felt your fear. I had felt you in the stairway, knowing you were trying to sneak up on me. I'd thought to play along. Then you stopped, and I felt this tense feeling in the air. As if someone was about to attack something, I could not breathe freely, and that rarely happens to me. I felt your fear, and apparently I overreacted."  
  
Rhiannon gave him a small smile, dropping his hand and running a finger lightly down his face. Trying to get him to laugh at the sensitive contact.  
  
"Silly elf, if I was truly being attacked you would have reacted in the correct way. Unfortunately, I did not recognize my brother until he spoke. That is how we greet each other, by testing our reflexes. He clearly showed that I am failing miserably when it comes to my self-defense."  
  
"That is an odd greeting for siblings."  
  
"Well, we are not normal." Rhiannon replied with another smile as she reached up to tug on one of his braids. "Now, calm yourself while I handle my brother. Why don't you go see Gimli and make sure he does not anger the horses. Believe me when I say they do not forget insults."  
  
Legolas gave a small laugh and then moved off into the direction she had just gestured to.  
  
***  
  
Brhagdan surveyed the scene before him. His baby sister, his little bird, was consoling an elf. An elf that had just attacked him no less. This was not normal. Ever since Elladan, Rhiannon had stayed as far away from male elves as she could, even the male half-elvens in their land. Now, she was being very pacifying to him; running a finger lightly down his face to get him to smile, tugging on one of his blonde braids. What in the name of Hades had happened? This was not the female he left. Damn nymphs, he had told father not to let her hide with them, they probably taught her their nymphly ways. Such was not the behavior for his sister. Oh, they would be having a talk. He strained to hear the conversation between the two, knowing it was futile, the elf could hear better than he could, Rhiannon was most likely speaking as softly as she could. He studied his sister. Some time while walking down the stairs, her hood had fallen. Her hair was it's usually messy disarray, never enjoying the feeling of being held back. Like Rhiannon herself. One ear was covered, the other not, and as a mortal man walked past them, Legolas swiftly covered the slight point that peaked out. Ahh, so the elf wasn't all that stupid. As if sensing the insult that played in his mind, Rhiannon turned to give him a censuring gaze. She muttered something to the elf, and then pointed him in a direction, most likely telling him to go off somewhere. She turned and walked towards her brother, amusement playing in her eyes.  
  
"He is not stupid; granted he has his moments; but he's a wood elf." Rhiannon declared to her brother, watching as he tried to hold in his own amusement.  
  
"Since when are you associating with elves again? Last I checked, you were hoping to castrate the lot of them."  
  
"Well, times change. And I didn't say all elves, just a few twin males of Rivendell."  
  
"Ahh, Rivendell. How is Lord Elrond?"  
  
"Trying to control my love life, as always."  
  
"He loves you, you are like a daughter to him. A difficult, misbegotten, pain in the-"  
  
"Brhagdan!"  
  
".daughter, nonetheless. So, explain the elf."  
  
"You should ask Gandalf, and how did you get here so quickly?"  
  
"My summons was sent as soon as you left Rivendell, maybe a day earlier. I was to meet you in Lorien. You do not need to be in Gondor at this time. You would not enjoy being surrounded by all that human sadness."  
  
"There were many questions about you in Lorien."  
  
"Well, I am quite striking."  
  
"Only because your mother prayed to a god for you to not turn out like a monster."  
  
Brhagdan cockily raised his face, "It worked, did it not?"  
  
Rhiannon did not even attempt to hold back her snort of disbelief, "Not when it came to your personality."  
  
"Well, the same could be said for you. Don't roll your eyes at me, because I know you want to."  
  
"Where are we going from here?" Rhiannon asked, trying to change the subject.  
  
Brhagdan looked at his younger sister, knowing she would soon be involved in war, see it right in front of her face. He had tried to keep her from the battlefield, the true ugliness of war for the longest time. She was not an innocent, and yet she was still very inexperienced in this life.  
  
"We will accompany this whole group to the Helm's Deep. After that, if we shall live, we will head back to Lorien and then possibly Mirkwood. Gandalf believes both will be under attack in the coming days." Brhagdan wondered at Rhiannon's sharp intake of breath when he said "Mirkwood."  
  
"Why do you do that, sister? You have never been to the woodland realm of Mirkwood."  
  
"I know two elves from there, they guided me to and from Rivendell. Legolas, the elf you met today, he is also a prince of Mirkwood.."  
  
Brhagdan could not stop the slight drop of his jaw, "He, that male elf that just tried to kill me, in your defense, is a prince of Mirkwood! What, how do you know him, why is he defending you? What has happened since I saw you last!"  
  
Rhiannon turned to her brother, "Well, it all started when my powers decided it was time for me to connect with my soul mate, or something along those lines. This connection happened when Legolas touched me, I went into his mind.why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
"Father is going to kill you. You bonded with the prince of Mirkwood! Ugh, how could you? I mean, you have just met him!"  
  
"Brhagdan! I did not bond with him like that, no ceremony, nothing like that, all about the mind."  
  
"I'm sure it was all about the mind, do you take me for a fool? No one can have a bond like that, it is too rare, and while I admit you have power Rhiannon, that is a thing beyond you. Plus, you are not even of the same race. He is full elf, you are not, why would the gods choose to bond you to eternity with someone you can not truly be with. You can not go to their version of paradise, Nirvana as my mother calls it."  
  
"Well then, Oh All-Knowing Brhagdan, explain to me what this is: Through a simple touch, a great power came over the two of us causing us to connect, accessing each other's minds and visions. Since that has happened, we are able to see what the other sees, feel what the other feels. We are able to sense each other, know each other's presence. Just now, Legolas felt my fear, and it scared him. Hence the reason he reacted as he did. So, if that is not finding a soul mate, bonding with that person. Please explain to me what is?"  
  
Brhagdan was silent, then shook his head and spoke, "Okay, I admit, I was wrong. You bonded. I bow to you, All-Knowing Rhiannon." Brhagdan paused for a second, almost fearing to ask his next question, fearing the possible repercussions of the answer, "Do you love him?"  
  
Brhagdan watched with bated breath as his sister let out a soft curse, and then looked every where around the stables, but at him. Her eyes finally resting on one spot. He turned to look, the elf was jesting with a, dwarf? Well, that was something he never believed he would ever see.  
  
"I don't know yet. I do not know much about him. I think I could, I think if I have the strength, I will." She glanced back at the elf, smiling as he said something to the dwarf.  
  
Brhagdan shook his head, "Ahh, my little one, I think you already do." 


	16. Songs of Comfort

Chapter Sixteen: Songs of Comfort  
  
We seek the comfort of another. Someone to share and share the life we choose. Someone to help us through the never ending attempt to understand ourselves. And in the end, someone to comfort us along the way. -- Marlin Finch Lupus  
  
The impending evening whipped many into action, preparing for the travel to Helm's Deep. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and now apparently Brhagdan and Rhiannon all had to be outfitted in some sort of protective gear. Even if it was in all likelihood Rhiannon would not be fighting. Apparently there were caves when in this fortresses known as Helm's Deep; and there Rhiannon would stay there. The gear was in case anything attacked them on the way. However, the mention of the caves sent an odd shiver down her spine; she was not sure if it was her own dislike of caves that caused this, or if it was her dislike doubled by that of Legolas. More than once he had made his dislike of caves known. Odd to Rhiannon, she thought the king of Mirkwood resided in a cave. Maybe there was just a difference between elven caves and other caves. Rhiannon's mindless rambling was stopped as she watched Gimli step out with his chain-mail shirt on. No one in the room tried to hide their amusement. The shirt fell beyond Gimli's feet, trailing to the floor. Even Gimli's eyes twinkled with laughter when he stated that the shirt was a tad long. He choose a helmet and a shield instead. The armor that Rhiannon wore, which was not much, was provided by Lady Eowyn, knowing which of the pieces they people of Rohan had would be most comfortable on a female.  
  
After a ceremony in the Golden Hall, and the decision that Eowyn would stay in Edoras to rule over the people while the King and Eomer traveled to Helm's Deep; the group set out. Rhiannon had decided to ride with her brother, forgoing her own horse. She did not trust herself to ride in the dark at the fast pace she was almost positive they would take. Few words were spoken between the group, the Riders, members of the Fellowship, able- bodied men of Rohan, and finally Brhagdan and Rhiannon. For five hours they rode until it was finally decided it was time to make camp. For fear of what was out there, fires were not lit, trust and their own senses led them to places to lay down. Scouts were sent out ahead of them. Rhiannon uncertainly made her way to the ground, finding herself near Gimli.  
  
"I do not understand horses, Mistress Rhiannon, why would one choose to fight while riding on one of them."  
  
Rhiannon nodded her head, "I agree with you Master Dwarf. Walking, being on two legs, makes much more sense to me. Yet the horses allow us to go at the fast pace we require to reach Helm's Deep in time. I just don't truly understand why elves revere them so much."  
  
As if understanding them, Arod, the horse of Legolas and Gimli, gave a snort. Rhiannon raised her hands up in defeat. "I apologize, Arod. Horses are great creatures and should be revered for all they do for us." Rhiannon swore that if the horse could, it would've rolled his eyes. Sudden musical laughter caused Rhiannon to whip her head around. Legolas stood above her, his bright eyes twinkling in the moonlight,  
  
"You two are begging for the horses to throw you off. Horses are not the animals you want to anger, they can make your journey very difficult. You both should rest, the coming days will be very tiring. Sleep."  
  
Rhiannon and Gimli both nodded and tried to get comfortable on the ground. Legolas found his way over to where Aragorn and Brhagdan sat talking. Interested in how the two knew each other. Aragorn truly did seem to have friends everywhere. Brhagdan looked up as Legolas approached,  
  
"Is my sister sleeping?"  
  
"She is at least lying down."  
  
Brhagdan nodded, "Good. She'll need it." Brhagdan then continued to speak to Aragorn, in the tongue he had heard Rhiannon mutter only at certain times. He studied the brother of Rhiannon. They were very different in coloring, but their eyes were similar. Rhiannon may have spoken of her jealously of her brother's light-green eyes, but he found her dark-green eyes much more interesting. Compared to him they were both young, and yet he knew they had seen things he had yet to experience. The siblings reminded him of Aragorn. Brhagdan for being the well-traveled person he was, and Rhiannon for being a member of many different worlds. Never truly fitting in. He was curious as to how their people came into existence, and yet knew that now was not the time to share the history of their peoples.  
  
Legolas glanced over to Rhiannon, studying her as she slept. He was concerned, something was wrong, she was not having a peaceful slumber. Legolas quickly made his way over to Rhiannon, alerting to Brhagdan and Aragorn that something inside Rhiannon's mind was causing her much unrest. Gimli dozed next to her, oblivious of what was warring within Rhiannon's mind. Legolas knelt next to her gently taking her into his arms, trying to wake her, lightly shaking her. She would not open her eyes. Legolas muttered a soft curse, and gripped her hands within his own. Hoping to awaken the connection between them. The feeling was immediate, that familiar sensation of receiving a blow to the stomach. Unlike the other times, nothing in Rhiannon's mind was clear, most likely due to her sleeping state. She did not sleep like elves, but not like humans, she was normally aware of her surroundings, but something within her mind was causing her to stay in that unconscious state. Since he could not understand anything within her mind, he broke the contact, quite unsure of what to do, and also not wanting to alert the whole camp that something was wrong with the female. He slightly leaned down to whisper into Rhiannon's ear soothing phrases of Sindarin, hoping to get her to calm down. Instead, Rhiannon woke-up. The vulnerability and sadness that shone in her eyes caused his heart to clench painfully within his chest. What had caused this? Earlier in the day she had been so playful, very much like a child. Now she appeared as if she would never smile again. Legolas was going to tell Brhagdan to come over when Rhiannon spoke, her voice rough,  
  
"No, please, do not call him. It would cause him even more concern to see me like this."  
  
Legolas looked down at her with concern, "What was in your mind? What caused you to react like that? You would not wake." Legolas ran one of his fingers across her forehead, then down her nose, causing the reaction he had hoped for, a smile graced Rhiannon's lips. The vulnerability still shone in her eyes, though. He did not know how to fix that. "Rhiannon what is wrong?"  
  
She shook her head, "Nothing's wrong. My mind just decided it did not want me to have a restful sleep." Rhiannon paused, and then moved so as to get the majority of her body off Legolas' legs. She bit her lip, remembering all those times in Lorien when she craved to have someone comfort her. As a young child her father would always sing to her to get her to sleep. When she started receiving her visions, which is what she had just had, Brhagdan would sing her to sleep with silly songs about cats that could fly. She looked over to where her brother sat, talking with Aragorn. She realized that as she had grown older, her brother could no longer provide her with the comfort she needed. She looked up at Legolas who was studying every one of her movements. She lifted her hand up and brushed her knuckles across Legolas' right cheek. She then lightly tugged on one of his braids,  
  
"Legolas, will you sing to me? Please?"  
  
Legolas gave her a smile, "I will, but you will not understand the words."  
  
Rhiannon smiled, "It does not matter. I just need to hear your voice." Legolas nodded and started to softly sing in that musical language, he lightly ran his hands through her hair and sang a hymn from his childhood over and over again until Rhiannon fell asleep. This time, no visions, no nightmares came to her. Her rest was peaceful.  
  
************************  
  
A/N: Ok, once again, Book Version of Two Towers. The " ''" means it comes right out of the books. If you do not want to know what happens in the story of Lord of the Rings after where Peter Jackson ended the Two Towers, then after this chapter you might not want to read anymore. 


	17. Stains That Will Never Wash Off

Chapter Seventeen: Stains That Will Never Wash Off  
  
Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.-- Mahatma Gandhi  
  
Camp was broken very early, they continued at their pace, as if demons were on their heels. Perhaps there was. Everyone's face held a sign of determination. They would get to Helm's Deep before it was too late. They would not go down without a fight. There was a feeling in the air, a heaviness, the smell of a storm that was brewing. Rhiannon observed those among her. At the front rode the King and Eomer. Besides Eomer was Aragorn. Legolas and Gimli rose not far ahead of Brhagdan. Gandalf for the time being rode next to Legolas but was slowly making his way to where the King rode. They had just encountered one very beaten man who said there was no hope ahead. He had been given a horse so that he could ride with them to Helm's Deep.  
  
Suddenly Gandalf stopped. He looked towards the sky, looking both north and west. His eyes then came back to the people in the group. The old king, the new heir, the Man who would be king, the dwarf that was now elf-friend, the prince of the Woodland realm who exhibited very un-elf like behavior, the part-elven male that would soon find himself at quite a crossroads. And then there was Rhiannon, she was much like dear Frodo. This time would change her forever, and knowing that the future held much danger, she would not turn from it. Why is it that the most pure always have to face the most darkness? Gandalf knew what he had to do, now was not his time to travel to Helm's Deep. He had others he needed to meet.  
  
" 'Ride, Theoden! Ride to Helm's Deep! Go not to the Fords of Isen and do not tarry in the plain! I must leave you for awhile. Shadowfax must bear me now on a swift errand.' Turning to Aragorn and Eomer and the men of the king's household, he cried: 'Keep well the Lord of the Mark, till I return. Await me at Helm's Gate! Farewell!'"  
  
With that the White Rider went off towards his errands. The others watched him leave, and then continued on their way, heeding the wizard's words.  
  
***  
  
Night had fallen, Rhiannon was starting to feel tired, and knew that the night was far from over. Legolas and Aragorn were now riding next to Eomer. Brhagdan not that far behind. Rhiannon was scared, there was no moon light, no starlight in the sky. They finally reached Helm's Dike. Rhiannon and Gimli both looking forward to the point when they would be able to get down off the horses. The sentinel at the Gate was glad to hear that the king and the Riders of the Mark had come. He informed them that within the caves, women and children resided. The riders all came off of their horses, the reality that a battle was near reigned heavy in the faces of all. Eomer quickly set about of arranging the soldiers on the Deeping Wall, the main part of the fortification that the servants of Saruman would face.  
  
Rhiannon had never seen Gimli so happy. The stone of this fortification seemed home to him. She listened as he spoke to Legolas, very funny conversation. Gimli praising the loveliness of the stone. Rhiannon almost snorted when Legolas called dwarves "strange folk."  
  
"And when, Master Elf, did you decide that elves were so normal? We come back to the mismatching of the eyebrows and the hair on your head. Most unnatural."  
  
"That does bother you."  
  
"Very much so."  
  
Legolas gave a sigh and fingered his bow. He was obviously uncomfortable here. He had even voiced his dislike of the place but stated he was happy that Gimli was happy. Brhagdan called Rhiannon to him as Legolas and Gimli were called by Aragorn to go to the Deeping Wall. Before she left, Legolas gave her a look, almost pleading,  
  
"I would feel more at ease if you went into the caves, for your safety."  
  
Rhiannon shook her head, "I do not like caves, neither do you."  
  
"You will be safe there."  
  
"You are so sure of that. Do not worry about me. I am quite good at saving myself, as much as I have trouble using weapons."  
  
Legolas gave a small smile, and then, quite surprising to Rhiannon, planted a soft kiss on her lips. As soon as she felt the action Legolas was hurrying off towards the Wall. The action only drove Rhiannon to reflect on the vision she had last night. One of her future, one with the elf, and it was not happy. She only remembered snatches,  
  
*It is to tempt fate!*  
  
*Do I not mean that much to you!*  
  
*You can not ask this of me!*  
  
*Why do you fear this! It is your fate, Rhiannon!*  
  
Rhiannon was pulled out of her memories as Brhagdan called for her, more forcefully then before.  
  
***  
  
Brhagdan shot a glance at his sister, her fear was obvious on her face. She did not want to go down into those caves, no matter how much carnage she may have to witness above ground. "Rhiannon, I have never seen you act like this before. Why do you fear the caves?"  
  
She shook her head lightly, a vacant expression coming over her features, her mind was no longer here. It was no longer in Helm's Deep, in the now sudden rain, it was off somewhere else, seeing something that he could not pick up on. When she went like this, it scared him, she was there physically, but the rest of her was somewhere else. Those damn powers, when would they stop interfering with her life? There was only one way she could become in full control of them; Rhiannon feared that path too much to tread it. And yet one day. Brhagdan glanced up at the wall where Legolas stood, preparing for the battle that was about to occur, readying his bow. Next to him stood Gimli, trying desperately to see above the ridge of the wall. Would Legolas be the key? It was very possible, and considering how he and Rhiannon were already connected, it would be the most logical solution. But would Rhiannon let herself become what she was truly meant to be? Would she allow herself to become that dependent on another, that emotionally weak? He glanced at his sister, now returning to this world, she gathered her strength about her, a determined look on her face. He had seen that face many times in his life; the face of a little girl that insisted she needed to know how to climb trees, even though she was in a dress that made it very difficult. The defying expression of a young girl realizing she would live forever, while many around her would die. The face of a young woman, who, as she laid in a healing bed, would not let her powers, the gifts that she saw as a curse, destroy her. That was the face she now had, and that was the face Rhiannon got when the only acceptable way, was her way.  
  
"I feel danger coming to those caves, I will not go down there. And in all honesty, no one else should be allowed down there. The woman and children should be as far away from the wall that faces the dike, as is possible. These people have such pride in their fortress, insisting it can not fall, can not be breached. Saying those words tempts fate, you and I both know the folly of them. I will not go down to those caves and hide with those that are helpless, and honestly no able-bodied female should be down there. Those that have the power to fight should; there should be no segregation based on sex. However, this realization shall not be for a very long time. Only elves tend to have the warrior females; and they are leaving this earth."  
  
Brhagdan raised a dark eyebrow, "The point of your rambling was?"  
  
"I'm staying above ground, there is nothing you can do about it. Tell the other males to deal with it also. All of you have shielded me from the grim realities of war for far too long. I may not be of much help, but the little help I can provide may be part of a deciding factor."  
  
Brhagdan gave her a discerning look, "Rhiannon, do not try to use your powers, not here, not know."  
  
Rhiannon shook her dark hair, her green eyes flashing in the sudden lightning, giving her an ethereal appearance, "I would not even consider it. I can help deliver additional pieces of weaponry to those that may need it, help get the injured out of the way before they get killed. I will not actually fight unless I am deliberately attacked. Does that suit you my brother?"  
  
"What would suit me is for you to not even be here. We should have had you stay at the Golden Hall with Eowyn. Or maybe you should have gone with Gandalf, wherever he traveled to on this night. Either way, I would not have you here."  
  
"You can not protect me forever, frater (brother). I have to face all that is in the world at some time. I promise you that I am stronger than I seem."  
  
"You are and you aren't. I have faith in you, but I would rather know you are safe."  
  
"We are never truly safe, Brhagdan, you know that. A person can live through many trials and battles, and all the problems thrown their way. Then, while just going on a walk, they can suddenly be struck down by what ever higher power that watches over us. They could be in the prime of their youth, or in the winter of their time. Death does not care who and what you are when it comes for you. Therefore, I am as safe here then in the Golden Hall, or with Gandalf, or even at our home. If now is my time to go, or yours, then so be it. The world will go on, time will progress, and the insignificant absence of us in this world will not matter."  
  
"When did you become so morbid and almost sullen?"  
  
"Since I left the realm of the nymphs. Realization has come to me."  
  
"You saw part of your future last night. When the rest were sleeping, when Legolas suddenly went to you, you saw part of your future last night."  
  
Rhiannon did not say anything but nodded her head. "You know, out of all, that the simplest action can change one's life." He told her.  
  
"Not this one, it was already predicted by the Lady of the Wood. Given to Gandalf to give to Legolas."  
  
"And what did she tell Legolas?"  
  
"In the simplest terms, when he hears the call of Seagulls, he will no longer be content in this land, no longer content to dwell in the forest. He will have the call of the Sea, the longing for Valinor, and that is all that will be in his heart, until he can travel there."  
  
As she spoke these words, the rains started to come down harder, the thunder pounding louder, almost as if to echo the raging emotions going through Rhiannon's mind. The sounds of the Uruk-hai could be heard, pounding their weapons on the packed dirt. The whole moment seemed to be out of a nightmare. Brhagdan, knowing he did not have the time he wanted to reassure his sister, gave her a quick kiss on her now wet forehead, and ran to the top of the fortification to prepare for the battle that was ahead.  
  
***  
  
There are moments that occur in our lives that can not be described in pretty words. This is what it was like for those that participated in the Battle of Helm's Deep. Although the men of Rohan were grossly out numbered by the servants of Saruman, they were able to defeat those evil beings on the night that seemed to last forever. The appearance of the White Rider, Gandalf, Mithrandir, whichever name you prefer, put such a fear into the servants of Saruman that they fled in fear. Many fell in the battle of Helm's Deep. Many friendships were forever forged. Aragorn and Eomer forever became brothers bonded by ties stronger than that of blood. Legolas and Gimli, while having a fun game of "How many orcs did you kill?" truly found their brothers-in-arms.  
  
The concern that came over the face of Legolas when both Eomer and Gimli were not to be found was almost heart-breaking. Rhiannon knew the thoughts that had come to his mind, she had watched him through the whole battle. Noting the enjoyment he took in killing the orcs, how the battle almost seemed like a game to him. And in fact, it was. Until Gimli could not be found, and then his thoughts had turned to that of Boromir, and Gandalf when he had fallen. When the orcs had entered parts of the fort, Rhiannon did have to defend herself, and she knew that when she had done that, she had pulled on both the strengths within Legolas and Brhagdan. She had fought without thinking, letting her body control her actions, and suppressing her mind so it could not register the fact that she was taking the life of something. No matter how foul that something was. She knew the orc-blood would never come out of her clothes, the stain of battle never out of her soul. Yet, she knew she needed to face this. Aragorn had found her at one time, and had literally shoved her as far into the fortress as he could, without putting her in the caves. That was a very good thing, considering the fact that the servants of Saruman carried with them a weapon that allowed for a section of the fortress to be decimated. It was quite an explosion, scattering dust, and parts of rocks everywhere. The storm above had rivaled the battle that occurred below. Through most of it Rhiannon was an observer, she had removed as much of herself as she could from the battlefield, trying not to realize all that was around her. This is what Brhagdan had once described to her. He called it primal instincts. The animal inside of us all takes over, the human part resting below the surface. Rhiannon had not felt like herself until the emergence of Gandalf, and until the sun finally made her great appearance. Now they were riding towards Isengard. From there Rhiannon and Brhagdan would go even farther, returning to the Golden Wood, and then to Mirkwood. Rhiannon was both happy and sad that she would soon be separated from those that she had become so close to in the past months. She knew that when they separated at Isengard, they would all be going on to their different fates. 


	18. A Jumble of Many Emotions

A/N: While this chapter does quote directly from the books, I messed with the timeline just a tad. While the city Miletus mentioned in this chapter is a real city near the Aegean Sea, here it is used for fictional purposes.  
  
Chapter Eighteen: A Jumble of Many Emotions  
  
"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power."  
  
If ever the people of Rohan had thought the company of a wizard, an elf, and a dwarf was odd, nothing was to prepare them for the visions presented to them by some of the oldest beings on Middle Earth and some of the smallest inhabitants in Middle Earth. The elders were the Ents, tree- herders, ageless beings, very similar in looks to the trees they watched grow and took care of. Ents made the eldest of elves look as babes. It was quite entertaining, seeing Legolas, self-confessed obssessor of trees, so much so he was willing to go back into a very tense and angry forest to study them, view an Ent. The King of the Golden Hall and the Riders of Rohan seemed absolutely mystified by hearing the tale of the Ents. The Riders more surprised when they viewed what they dubbed as children, sitting on a set of rocks surrounded by empty plates, stuffed, and smoking on pipes. Little did they know they were hobbits, Merry and Pippin to be exact. Rhiannon was almost ecstatic at seeing them, and yet something seemed drastically different. Ah, well, tales for another time. All of Isengard had been decimated, flooded, burned. The place looked horrible. They were to learn that this was the work of the Ents, in reaction to Saruman's horrid treatment of the trees of Isengard. A reaction by the Ents to the disrespect the orcs had given the forest.  
  
There was some bittersweet justice in seeing Isengard destroyed. This should never have happened, it should not have been allowed to get this out of order. The destruction was a realization in the fact that there was no turning back, that Helm's Deep would be child's play compared to what was next. Rhiannon knew that to maintain a fairly balanced universe, the balance of power of good and evil had to be maintained. All beings had the capabilities to be good or evil within them; that circumstances in their lives led them to which side they would decide to fight for. If they decided to fight at all. Some were content to stay within their own worlds, ignoring the outside. This war was the first of many tests for the race of Men. These battles, their actions during this long ordeal, would decide the future of all. The time of the elves was over, it had not passed, it was as good as gone. The hobbits and dwarves already seemed forgotten among the race of men. The other races had become so far removed from that race, the Men, those that they considered inferior, they did not realize that that race would save them, save their world. All things went in cycles, in great circles. This time, the time leading up to now, was the first phase of the circle. One day, in the very far future, the race of Men would fall to a great evil, and the power of the elves would be restored. Or the power would go to the most powerful beings on the land. Rhiannon had been informed about this for years, mostly from Brhagdan's mother. She had been the only true teacher Rhiannon had, her own mother gone before she could truly help her daughter.  
  
Many thoughts went through Rhiannon's mind as she subconsciously stroked her fingers through the golden-hair of Legolas as he sang softly to himself staring at the sky. At the moment Gandalf, King Theoden and his Riders were in conference with Treebeard. On a pile of rocks, proof of the destruction of Isengard, a curious group sat, smoking the finest pipe weed of the Hobbit's Shire. Two hobbits, a dwarf, the man fated to be king, and a being that was a hybrid of mortal and immortal races of which the closest likeness was the race of Men, all sat together. There was no real talking, they were all relaxing, reflecting on their past few weeks. The hobbits had provided a more than sufficient meal to their new guests. Their tale of adventure was waiting to be told, but first the males, excluding the elf, felt the need to make use of the procured pipeweed.  
  
Legolas glanced up at her, a small smile playing on his face, "I can hardly see the sky through their smoke."  
  
"Yes, well, when they are hacking and gagging as evil things chase your company, you can just hop along without a care in the world."  
  
"I do not hop."  
  
"Fine. Skip along without a care in the world."  
  
"Rhiannon!" Legolas tried to sound indignant but his laughter leaked out, a very musical and out-of-place sound in all the ruins that lay around them. The group on the rocks ignored them, too wrapped up in their own thoughts.  
  
"Are you scared of what the future holds?" Rhiannon asked him softly, no longer looking at him, but out into the horizon.  
  
"I can not control the future, why should I then fear it? What will happen, will happen. The sun will rise the next day and life will continue to go on as it has. A thousand years from now all our acts will be the basis of myths and legends that haunts the race of Men now. They will not understand what we undertook, many elves will forget the smallest acts committed in this time, and the truth will be lost in the artistic license that is often taken when stories are recorded. I will still be living, be it here on Middle Earth or in Aman. You will still be here. Do not worry your mind about what is coming, worry only about what you mean to do in the next hour. As powerful as you may one day be, Rhiannon, you can not change what will inevitably happen to this world. The acts that are now in place have been in motion for many years, you could not and you can not change it."  
  
Rhiannon gave a small smile, recalling a conversation she had had with the elf when they had first met. "I told you, my dear elf, you are wise. You just do not know it." There was still something in the back of her mind that would not let her rest. She knew the worst was yet to come, the tension in the air, in the earth, was tangible. "Legolas, what if the sun does not rise the next morning?"  
  
"Then we shall be guided by moonlight and starlight."  
  
"And if that is not present?"  
  
"Then we shall be guided by the light within us. Now, no more of these thoughts, I wish to hear the rest of the story of how our half ling friends came to be here." He sat up, and lightly caressed her face, pleased when she leaned into his palm, "Rhiannon, do not let these doubts, these fears of yours plague your mind. Enjoy the time you have to rest." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and stood up, holding out a hand to assist her.  
  
"I can get up myself you know."  
  
"And you can fall right back down when your feet get caught in your skirts."  
  
Rhiannon's mouth fell slightly ajar, "You saw that?"  
  
"Yes, quite clearly. I think you need to have a discussion with your horse, it does not seem to be fond of you. Of course, you are not very fond of it. Either way, you must learn to respect the beautiful creatures that horses are, you can not force yourself on them."  
  
"And you could not have informed me of this back in Edoras because.."  
  
"I was positive you would have learned by now. Up with you, I wish to hear these tales."  
  
Rhiannon huffed and threw her best glare at Legolas, quite disappointed when it only made him smile wider. Stupid, arrogant, sarcastic, elf. Maybe she was more than a tad embarrassed that Legolas had witnessed her mishap when dismounting the horse today. She was positive that only her brother had witnessed that, she should have known that Legolas was watching. However, when one was stumbling to the ground, one did not think about the people watching and more about self-preservation. Legolas gave another small laugh, clearly reading her thoughts,  
  
"I can teach you the basics of archery Rhiannon, maybe I can also instruct you on the basics of Elven grace."  
  
Rhiannon shook her head in an obvious gesture of annoyance, "I will not hesitate to smack you, elf. Do not tempt me."  
  
Legolas raised one of his own dark brows, his smile turned into a smirk that Rhiannon wished to wipe straight off his face." I believe you have made that threat before, and yet have never followed through with your claim."  
  
Rhiannon's expression was blank, making Legolas think she was about to raise her hand to him, and yet in her eyes something else twinkled. Was that..merriment? Not possible, had she gone back to her playful self already?  
  
"I can make good on my claim at this moment, if you wish. However, the day is passing, we do not have much time left, and I wish to hear the tale of the hobbits."  
  
Legolas was confused by Rhiannon's statement, and her apparent need to hide her true feelings. There was mirth in her eyes, and yet so much more. The merriment was being concealed to hide what she truly felt.  
  
"What do you mean that we do not have much time left, Rhiannon? Where do you think you are going? Surely you would not return to your homeland, now, before the task is even completed."  
  
"Of course I am not going home now Legolas, it would be too dangerous. I only meant that we are coming at a parting of ways at the next dawn. You are traveling with Aragorn, wherever he goes, as far as he travels. Gandalf has requested that Brhagdan and I go in an opposite direction at the moment. We are to head back towards Lorien and then towards your own homeland. Gandalf feels that we will be needed there, and so that is where we go. My brother and I would not be assets on your battlefields. If we were to be found by the Race of Men, it would not be taken well. Here, they are not aware of us. We would truly frighten those that live in suspicion of everything, the inhabitants of Minas Tirith; my brother has informed me of such. We make little sense to them, we have the features of Man with the life, the magic, of Elves. We are not easily defined. Most of the inhabitants of Middle Earth, of all the races, are not aware of our world. We are the past, present, and future of all that live on Middle Earth now. We have always known this, we always will. That is why all the races of Middle Earth are represented in my realm, for the reason that they must be carried on somehow, someway. We would cause a great hold up on your travels into the city, and if my brother and I are killed on your battle fields. Well, you would not wish to know the price that must be paid. My family may not be royalty, but when Nature gives her gifts, her magic, she does not care if you are royalty or not. She will give her power to those she feels are most worthy. My brother's mother is a powerful Priestess, she has been my only teacher my whole life, and she is not a female to anger." Rhiannon paused for a moment and shook her head, obviously not wanting to talk anymore about her homeland.  
  
"If this is true, why did you fight at Helm's Deep?" Legolas asked, his curiosity suddenly hunger for more information about her lands, her realm, her people.  
  
"We owed all of you, we have paid our debt. If we die in favor to the people of Middle Earth, there is no reason to be anger. If we, as guests of the realm, are killed after already repaying our debt, anger is provoked. A demand for justice. I do not understand it, I never will. As I have said many times before, now is not the time for such discussion, maybe one day when so many spies do not lurk in the land."  
  
Legolas nodded, their playful mood of moments ago already gone so quickly, he then turned to the group on the rocks, asking to hear the finished tale of the younger hobbits.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon had to admit the young hobbits had experienced quite an adventure. Escaping orcs, meeting Ents, drinking Ent Draughts, seeing the destruction of Isengard. With all they had experienced, they still maintained their innocence. Of course, this seemed their way of life. Roof over the head, food in the belly, stories around the fireside, that was all that was needed for a good life. She envied them. In truth, she envied all her friends gathered on the rocks that listened to the tale of Merry and Pippin. She still felt this coldness within her, this unrest from Helm's Deep. She still felt fear from the vision that had bothered her nights ago. She wished she could so easily relax. Soon they had decided to go into the actually city of Isengard, toward Orthanc, the now dark wizard Saruman's tower. Gandalf, Theoden, and the Riders were already starting to gather at what one could assume was the base.  
  
There was a power that radiated from the destroyed tower, Rhiannon could feel it tingle along her skin, causing the small hairs on her body to stand on end. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Saruman was a powerful wizard that had just turned down a dark path. However, the Gandalf that last saw Saruman was not the one that returned, now it was a true battle of wills, of power. The magic in the air made Rhiannon heady, and she could tell the same reaction was occurring in Brhagdan as well. They both took subconscious steps back, being taught long ago to be as far away from your temptation as you could. The feeling in the air hinted that something large was about to happen. It scared Rhiannon, badly. Terrified truly; she glanced at her brother, fear also written in the lines of his golden face.  
  
"I have a bad feeling, Rhiannon." He whispered to her. She nodded in agreement,  
  
"And yet, my brother, I do not feel as if it will be that horrible."  
  
"True, you haven't passed out from a vision, always a good sign that something is not beyond horrible. And yet, when all of Miletus was buried by ash from the red-flowing river of lava from a very angry mountain, you saw nothing of it's coming."  
  
Rhiannon graced her brother with a lovely glare, "No one can predict what Mother Nature chooses to happen; least of all me."  
  
Rhiannon and Brhagdan were silenced by the voice of Gandalf, apparently speaking to all now as his voiced was raised, " 'And Saruman has powers you do not guess! Beware his voice!'"  
  
The group moved closer, to the foot of the stairs of the tower of the now dark wizard Saruman. Gandalf was wanting to go up to speak with his once Superior; Theoden was also to accompany him along with Eomer, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Rhiannon and Brhagdan could not be paid any ransom to ascend those stairs, to see Saruman. They knew better. Gandalf was at the moment banging with his staff on the door. This was until the voice of Wormtongue, the king's former advisor, spoke out, requesting to know what Gandalf wished.  
  
" 'Go and fetch Saruman, since you have become his footman, Grima Wormtongue! And do not waste our time!'"  
  
Gandalf's normally tactic of eloquent language to get what he wished had long since vanished before the company had even set foot within Isengard. She watched her brother in her periphery as he made a movement to cover his ears. Rhiannon understood why as the voice emanated from the tower, one that with the tones presented in it could convince many to do whatever he wished. Rhiannon copied her brother's movement quickly, cupping her ears as tightly as she could. Rhiannon glanced around her, most of King Theoden's men had fallen under the spell of Saruman's voice, his most powerful weapon. A sword may cause a deadly wound, but it can always heal. Words have power that no tangible weapon could every match. However, many soldiers did not realize the power of a voice; a voice backed by thousands of years of living, and knowledge that Men could not even imagine. However, the destruction by the Ents proved that no one with as much power as Saruman, with the ability to persuade, was indestructible. In fact, a mind not captured by the power of Saruman's voice, could clearly judge that being within the company of Gandalf the White was a much more desirable place to stand. The men were entranced and a silence fell among all. Gimli, in his own infinite wisdom, broke the silence and spoke the truest words Rhiannon had heard that day, she lowered her hands to hear him clearly,  
  
" 'In the language of Orthanc help means ruin, and saving means slaying, that is plain.'"  
  
The words of the dwarf seemed to shake Saruman as his voice contained a sort of quiver as he resumed his spell. Rhiannon quickly covered her ears again. Rhiannon could make out the words said by the Chimera in mortal form before her, and yet they were muffled. He truly spoke poison, insulting all and yet doing it in a way that few could pick up on. Rhiannon was disgusted, she knew her opinion would have been different if she could not truly feel the destruction he had caused, if she had not glimpsed him already once in her young life, when he was still on a brighter side. This nonsense went on for sometime, Saruman's spell even managing to make the men of Rohan feel doubt against their king. It wasn't until Saruman insulted Gandalf, not realizing the change that had occurred in his old, and former friend. It was the truest battle of wills that Rhiannon had ever had the chance to witness, knowing she would never see anything like this again. Everyone was silent as Gandalf the White and Saruman, the now fallen wizard, verbally battled, and in the end, Gandalf came out more victorious than Saruman. Saruman was quite surprised that the one that used to seek him out for advice now had more power than he did, had the power to force him out. With that Saruman disappeared crawling back into his sanctuary, defeated with his staff broken.  
  
Rhiannon and Brhagdan locked eyes and both nodded while lowering their hands from their eyes. Something just didn't seem right, at all. Apparently, her uneasiness finally made it's way into the mind of her so- called Soul Mate, whom, throughout this whole ordeal did not seem to realize her fear until now, while he subtly walked over to her.  
  
"What is wrong? You seem ill at ease."  
  
Rhiannon's mantra of "Must not roll eyes, must not roll eyes" continued in her head. "It's just, this can not be all. Saruman could just not turn his back and not take further action. No one has their plans foiled and then takes the insult of one that used to be below him without taking further action. Especially a wizard as prideful as Saruman. It is just not possible."  
  
Brhagdan and Legolas both nodded their agreement. Rhiannon was soon proved correct as what looked like a dark, stormy ball was hurled out of a window in the tower Saruman had spoken from. Gandalf noted to all that the object was thrown by Wormtongue in revenge, not by Saruman who, while crawling back into his tower could not have thrown it. Pippin, curious and helpful hobbit he was, walked over to retrieve the object, while Brhagdan turned to her,  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"I do not know."  
  
"You should." "Why do you say that?"  
  
"You are the one with 'magical' abilities."  
  
"You are the son of a Priestess, why do you not know?"  
  
A third voice came into their argument, "I now know why I am grateful I never had children."  
  
"Be quiet, elf. You have lived over a thousand years, why do you not have an answer for us?" Brhagdan asked.  
  
To that the elf did not have an answer. 


	19. An End of a Journey, The Start of Many O...

A/N: Right off the bat, I will not claim that I know anything about proper conjugation and grammar in Latin or Elvish; so if the phrases you find below are incorrect, I apologize. Thanks go to Matt and Jenny for semi- kicking me in the ass to get to writing.  
  
Chapter 19: An End of a Journey, The Start of Many Others  
  
"Time is the fire in which we burn."  
  
Many events took place before nightfall, and not all were pleasant. There was a meeting with the ancient Treebeard after the incident in the Tower. Legolas and Gimli had been granted access into Fangorn Forest to explore, whenever the opportunity came up. The elf and the dwarf had become very close friends, to the surprise of all. They now had a deal, that once the Ring was destroyed, and this mission was truly over, they would visit the caves at Helm's Deep that Gimli had fallen in love with and then they would travel Fangorn, the forest Legolas was now in love with. Rhiannon and Brhagdan had chosen to ride with Gandalf and company, to be in a large group for camping through the night. Even though this decision would cause Rhiannon and Brhagdan to go out of their way, costing a least another day of riding, they would not ready to leave their friends and advisers yet. Brhagdan may have been ready to travel to Lorien and then to Mirkwood as Gandalf had told them to, but he was aware of his sister's reluctance to live the group she had known for some time now. After a spot was picked for the camp and the night had fallen, Legolas pulled Rhiannon off to the side, to have their final talk before their long separation.  
  
**  
  
Rhiannon grasped Legolas' hands as he pulled her farther into the dark night, not so far that help could not reach them, but far enough so the Men of Rohan could not overhear their conversation. Legolas came to an abrupt stop, causing Rhiannon to tumble into him, while being almost full-elf; she did have many moments of human grace. Luckily for Rhiannon, the darkness hid most of her embarrassment; and as was customary for her, she used humor to hide her true feelings.  
  
"Legolas, you are aware that my brother and mostly everyone else will get quite the wrong impression about this."  
  
"And what impression would that be? Do you think I truly brought you all the way out here to talk?"  
  
Rhiannon's jaw dropped in a very comical gesture, "Why, you conniving little, oh my, you are just so, ugh!"  
  
Legolas laughed, it was fun being bound to her, she provided so much humorous entertainment. "I assure you, Rhiannon, I bring you out here in the noblest of intentions. Odd that you can dole out humor and insinuating remarks to others, but can not handle them when they come to you. Truly, it surprises me that one who has lived for nine-hundred years is still so..innocent when it comes to those ways."  
  
"I am from a different culture, elf. You seem to forget that. And for most of my life, particularly before and after my engagement to Elrond's son, Elladan, I thought to take a position in the temple that Cerethena helps to run. To be blessed with being far-removed from males of your kind."  
  
"If I was not able to see your true thoughts, I would be insulted by that remark. Although I wonder, who is Cerethena?"  
  
"Brhagdan's mother, the Priestess."  
  
"Your teacher?" He asked  
  
"That and much more." Rhiannon affirmatively replied.  
  
His questions continued, his curiosity raised, "What of your own mother?"  
  
"She left when I was still a child. It was very difficult for her to be separated from her homeland, so she returned to Middle Earth and then passed over the Sea."  
  
"My mother was said to do the same, although no one truly knows. She seems to have just disappeared according to my father; there is no real mention of her at my home." Rhiannon was silent, Legolas had never truly spoken of his mother, the mother she knew he so resembled, even if he did not realize it.  
  
"Perhaps she had a duty that needed to be fulfilled."  
  
"She did, it was called being a mother." There was an obvious sign of bitterness in his voice.  
  
"Legolas, me amicus, trust the words I am about to say to you. Sometimes, often, people are forced to leave those they love. They do not have a choice in the matter. Many occurrences can pull people apart; duty being one of the most important. I am sure your mother did not leave her son, her husband, and her people willingly."  
  
"Your mother did."  
  
"My mother would have died of grief if she stayed in my homeland much longer. Your mother had a greater duty to fulfill."  
  
"And how do you know this? You have never been to my homeland; I have never told you these things."  
  
Rhiannon placed a small hand on his shoulder, "Legolas, you must trust me on this. We are bonded, entwined, whichever term you choose to define it. I have seen parts of your past, your memories that lie long forgotten in your mind. You, being an elf, are denied a time to dream, to truly rest your mind and let things long passed and forgotten make themselves known. However, memories do not die. They may be forgotten, they may never be uncovered by the holder of the memory again, but they do not die. I saw, through you, the day your mother left. That was not a person willingly leaving all she loved beyond, that was a person going to do her duty to this world. No matter how we like to believe it does not, duty conquers love more often than not. It is a sad reality, but when the livelihood of a whole people rests on your shoulders, on your tasks, then you can not, in good faith, ignore your duty for love, for family. It is not fair, but I have learned, especially in my months in this world, that life is often not fair. It is not fair to us, to be chosen for each other without having any say in the matter. What is between us is not a betrothal; it can not be broken, barring death. It is not fair that we had no say in the matter, but it is over. Were you not, just this very day, informing me that we cannot control our futures, nor our pasts, so why worry about it? Why hold this grudge you have in your heart towards your mother, and that you still carry towards me for seeing the things you do not wish for me to know or for you to remember?"  
  
Legolas nodded his golden head, knowing Rhiannon was correct, and marveling at the change that came over her as she spoke. He was now looking into the creature he had first met. A creature that he could not help but be intrigued by. A creature that knew more about life, about living, then he would ever come to realize. There was still so much he did not know, and so much he needed to. He would not spend this last night with silly questions about her homeland; he would spend it deciding on what they would do during the coming separation. But first..  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon's mind had wandered off to that place where she was not aware of her surroundings, where all her thoughts seemed to come together. This was until she felt the soft pressure of Legolas' lips against her own. She was startled at first, not expecting that action and yet knowing she should. The light fingers that traced the lines of her face, as if to memorize them caused a small gasp to come from her throat, not expecting such a gentle action. Legolas took advantage of her sudden action and lightly nibbled on her now accessible bottom lip, lightly taking it between his teeth as he pulled back for one final kiss. A devilish smile lighting up his face as he saw his innocent part-elven's reaction.  
  
Rhiannon was repeating another mantra within her head, starting to realize that insanity must have plagued someone in her family at one time and was now being passed to her. "Breathe, Rhiannon, just breathe. There you go, air into lungs, elf is done using you for a snack. Do not smack him that was not meant to be insulting. Probably meant to be seductive or romantic. Might have helped if you reacted. You may want to open your eyes now; can't have the elf thinking he had that much of an effect on you." Rhiannon, after her small moment of personal counseling, opened her eyes. "That was a bit forward."  
  
Legolas shook his head, "Not in the least. I could show you."  
  
Rhiannon raised a hand, "I do not even want to know. Do not go back to camp with what just happened on your mind. My soul mate or not, Brhagdan will snap your neck."  
  
A haughty look came over the elf's face, "You think he is fast enough for that."  
  
Rhiannon performed her familiar action of tilting her head and arching a brow, "I know he is. Brhagdan did not just impress the elves of Lorien because of his different coloring. He has many skills, and just because you were once in the position of attacker towards him, does not mean you have any idea of my brother's abilities."  
  
A question that had been plaguing Legolas' mind since meeting Brhagdan was answered by Rhiannon before he even had the chance to voice it.  
  
She nodded her head, "Yes, my brother is immortal. It comes from both our father and his mother. No, she is not of elven-blood, and does not have any in her line. One day, elf, I will open your eyes to all that is out there, all that lies beyond the Elven Realms."  
  
"I am starting to doubt who is the innocent and who is the experienced one here."  
  
"That, my dear elf, is the sign of a wise mind."  
  
Their discussion continued for some time, finishing with Rhiannon noting that she should get some rest, and Legolas asking her to deliver a message of greeting to his father.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon lay sleeping between her brother and Legolas. She had not been sleeping peacefully, in fact for the last few moments she had been tossing and turning. Legolas reached to wake her, but Brhagdan motioned him to stop.  
  
"She is probably getting a vision, let it finish." There was a commotion then, Gandalf yelling, an argument.  
  
"What is it?" Brhagdan asked as Legolas jumped up, pulling his riding tunic on.  
  
"Someone stole that ball, a seeing stone, a palantir; it appears to be young Pippin. Wake Rhiannon now, and then follow me."  
  
**  
  
Rhiannon's vision, a dark one filled with Orcs in a forest she had not seen, a blood-stained brownish-green tunic, a palace in a cave and many other things that made little sense, was interrupted by her brother shaking her. There was commotion all throughout the camp. Gandalf was yelling something about the Enemy knowing where they were, that they all must pack- up and ride away.  
  
"Frater (brother), what happened?"  
  
"Pippin picked up that stone, a seeing stone, something that starts with a "P," I'm not sure what. However, the enemy is able to witness where we are. We must go, get your pack and into more suitable riding clothes, I believe we are leaving for Lorien before the dawn."  
  
Rhiannon nodded and quickly did as her brother stated. Hurrying after him as she tried to tie her hair behind her head, finally revealing to all there what she truly looked like when her cloaked-hood and hair did not hide her face. Those that perceived her semi-ethereal qualities did not seem that surprised, however most were too startled to notice. She reached the group of advisers, Aragorn, Theoden, and Gandalf just as they stated their different routes. Gandalf would be riding off with Pippin, Theoden would be taking Eomer and ten riders with him to Helm's Deep. The rest were to follow Aragorn. Suddenly, a darkness fell over the camp, blocking both moonlight and starlight. There was a screeching, the most terrible sound Rhiannon had ever heard. It caused her insides to freeze; she could taste her fear in her mouth. This was darkness and this was evil that lived on, and it could be felt by all. She was to find out, from the word "Nazgul" that Gandalf yelled, that this winged darkness was a messenger of Mordor. There was an immediate call to ride, to get away from the camp as fast as possible. Gandalf's last order to her and Brhagdan was to get to Lorien as fast as possible. She exchanged a very quick farewell with Aragorn, and when she felt their small connection as they held hands, she smiled. When she saw him again.well, that was a thought for another time. Now Aragorn was to be the leader that he truly was, but had too much fear to be. Now, he did not have a choice. Rhiannon raced through the camp as Brhagdan went to prepare their horses, she found Gimli and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead, knowing she would miss her partner in sarcastic and off-side comments. He yelled after her to be careful with the horse as she ran, once again, trying to find Legolas, to say farewell. Being the stubborn one he was, he found her.  
  
"All your running around has made it very difficult to get to you."  
  
"I needed to say goodbye."  
  
"You are leaving at this very moment?"  
  
"Yes, Brhagdan most likely has the horses ready by now."  
  
Legolas nodded. He leaned forward, placing soft kisses on her forehead, and then her left and right cheek as if blessing her, anointing her. Another soft kiss was placed on her lips, and then for laughter's sake, on her nose.  
  
"Be safe. It is a long road to Lorien, and the forests of Mirkwood hold many dark and evil things. My father is also very temperamental. Please, do not anger him. I do not want to come back to Mirkwood and find you locked in a dungeon."  
  
Rhiannon laughed. "Thank you, I needed that."  
  
"You will contact me?"  
  
"I do not think I have much of a choice."  
  
Legolas nodded, "Then I bid thee farewell. Be careful."  
  
"And the same to you. Venienti occurrite morbo. Vade in pace."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Meet the mis ortune as it comes. Go in peace."  
  
"That is awfully sad."  
  
"It is awfully true."  
  
Both turned their heads as Brhagdan yelled for his younger sister.  
  
"There is never enough time to say all I wish to you, Rhiannon. I am always rushed. However, Tenna' ento lye omenta, a'maelamin, quel marth." (Until next we meet, my beloved, good luck).  
  
"And that means?"  
  
"Ask the Lady, she will know. It is just a farewell. You need to learn Elvish."  
  
"Your last parting shot, my friend?"  
  
"I will not see you for some time, it was needed."  
  
Rhiannon gave another laugh, and then mounted the horse Brhagdan now held the reins to in front of her. Amazingly, she did this without hurting herself. Rhiannon knew that the Elvish words Legolas whispered to the horse was the reason why this was such. Brhagdan than said a final good-bye to all and brother and sister rode at an rapid pace towards the Golden Wood.  
  
**  
  
Rhiannon and Brhagdan took rest, not being able to see in the thick darkness that blanketed the world. Brhagdan was muttering softly, an ancient spell his mother had taught him, how to create fire that illuminates but does not burn. She watched in fascination as Brhagdan placed what looked like a handful of flames onto a group of rocks. She fondly remembered trying to learn that spell; unfortunately it was not that long after her own powers first started to take hold of her. She had almost burned the temple down; her first archery lesson was perfection compared to that. Rhiannon took in a deep breath, trying to let the fresh night air cure some of the weariness that rested within her soul; weariness she feared would never disappear. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the closest patch of rocks. They were no where near their intended destination after a full day of riding. Lorien was very far off, and after they reached that realm, they were to somehow cross the Anduin and go to Mirkwood. Gandalf had felt they were needed there, knowing that Mirkwood and the northern borders of Lorien were soon to come under attack as the darkness in Mordor increased in strength. Rhiannon was both excited and terrified to set foot in the dark woods of Mirkwood. It would be good to see Lostladion again. Shame came over her as she forgot her first ally when she was on her way to Rivendell. She realized that many things in her life had been put out of priority in these past few weeks. She had not spared many thoughts for those that she had met along this journey, those that she knew and had left in Rivendell. She could not even recall the last time she had spared a thought and a prayer for dear Frodo and loveable Sam; the two that had the toughest burden out of them all. "Have I really been that self- involved?" She asked to no one in particular.  
  
"Yes." Her brother playfully answered, "You have been a horrible person, Rhiannon. You have not spared thoughts for those that you are not in immediate contact with. You have been living in your present, focusing solely on each task ahead of you so as not to lose your sanity. I am truly disgusted to know you."  
  
"Thank you for the brotherly love, I feel much better now." Rhiannon sniffled, marveling at the fact that she was crying again, for the second time in two days. It was as if she was becoming fully human.  
  
Brhagdan read her thoughts again, "You are not, you stupid cow. You just feel everybody's emotions, their pain. I'm surprised you did not faint at Helm's Deep with all the emotions there. The desperation, the fear, how did you stay standing and focused to fight back?"  
  
"I blocked every thing out."  
  
"And when did you learn to do that?"  
  
Rhiannon thought for a moment, "I do not remember every learning that. I have always been taught by Cerethena to feel the emotions of others to help them, not to fight them."  
  
"Ah, then it was the elf's doing."  
  
"He does have a name, Brhagdan."  
  
"Yes, he does. I just do not like him."  
  
"And why is this?"  
  
"He is another warrior prince. Did you not learn your lesson the first time?" Brhagdan's voice was harsher then he meant for it to be. However, Elladan had caused a large blow to be suffered by his sister's pride and heart. She had never truly loved Elladan that was clear; if she had she would not be in front of him right now. However she had been hurt, badly. She had been rejected, for whatever reason Elladan had seen fit. And yet, it was bound to happen. She was not meant for that elf, it had been clear from the beginning. Rhiannon was just so happy to be around males that were not scared off by her magical capabilities. It was a scary thing to know that if your wife tried hard enough, she could turn you to ashes in the blink of an eye. Rhiannon would never do such a thing; she did not believe that any power should be used for destruction. She was very peace loving, and yet she had one of the harshest anger streaks he had ever seen in a person. You did not hurt Rhiannon's family, those she loved, and the payment she extracted was higher than most anyone could afford to pay. He knew something was not right with his sister, something had been wrong since that horrible vision from a few nights ago, one she would not share with him. Brhagdan realized his sister was starting to come into her own, and with that came more power than most would know how to deal with. It was tragic really, to be a vessel of magic in a world where magic was starting to fade. Brhagdan watched his younger sister until she fell asleep; this time it was restful, the fresh air, so far removed from the destruction of Isengard, aiding her in the peaceful sleep she sought. In three days they should be in Lorien. More answers may lie there, of course, more puzzles were sure to occur. 


	20. Darkness Descending

Chapter 20: Darkness Descending  
  
"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be." -Douglas Adams  
  
Across the seas that separated the land of Middle Earth from the lands that lay beyond it, separated by barriers that could not be seen, by boundaries bound with the strongest form of magic, based on lines that separated one world from another, a woman sat staring into the night sky. Her heart and prayers went out to those that lay resting under a similar night sky in that land known as Middle Earth. In that land, two of the most beloved to her soul slept under those stars. Her children, one bound by blood, the other by ties that could not be measured. A head full of long black hair kneeled in front of an altar; candle light reflected in green eyes, brown skin glowed illuminated by the light of the altar and the moonlight shining in through the window. Cerethena, one of the eldest beings in all of the realm, prayed for her children, Brhagdan and Rhiannon. In her mind's eye she observed her children, as they slept on the ground, resting for the hard ride they had at dawn. Brhagdan's golden skin was darker, testament to the time he spent outside. In his sleep his anxiety was revealed in the lines set in between his brows. Her gaze then traveled to that of her step- daughter, her student of many years. Her face was hidden by her unbound hair, falling in ever direction and sure to be full of many twigs and leaves in the morn. Rhiannon still slept as a human child, curled up into a little ball, her hands crushed to her chest. A smile came to her face, no matter how many years that girl spent on this earth, part if her would always be a child.  
  
Cerethena then turned her eyes towards the new male in the lives of her children. This may have been fated, some would argue that. Cerethena found that it was a large coincidence. The son of the guardian of Rhiannon was destined to be her soul mate? Not necessarily fate, but she had realized long ago that anything was possible. Rhiannon's guardian had not been determined until after she was born this occurrence oddly out of the tradition of the people, and the guardian was from another realm, another oddity. The reason for this being that Rhiannon's mother felt that an elf would be more suitable for guarding her mostly elf daughter. Cerethena had always felt that a person that had similar powers as Rhiannon would be the best guardian in her life, however, the mother of Legolas had done a superb job in guiding Rhiannon in life. Cerethena let herself study the elf; he was young by elven standards. He was not one of the high elves, a wood elf, a rustic cousin. He enjoyed the simpler things, appreciated the incomprehensible beauty of nature around him. He did not hold his title in front of all, but then again, being a wood elf, his title would not hold much sway. Still, she understood why Rhiannon was attracted to him even before the connection. He was a person full of light and laughter, even in the dark times that had come. There was a certain priceless asset in a person that can have laughter in dark days. Cerethena smiled as the blonde elf raised his head, aware that someone was watching him.  
  
Legolas had a sudden disconcerting feeling, that someone was watching him. He turned his eyes to all the areas around him, and could find no one studying him in the distance. Much had happened since the departure of Gandalf and Pippin, of Brhagdan and Rhiannon. A group of the Dunedain, Aragorn's kinsman had shown up, along with the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. He did not know how to respond to the sons of Elrond the Wise, how Elladan would react to Rhiannon now being bound to him. It caused uneasiness within him, but since there was nothing he could do about it, he had no real reason to worry. Aragorn was taking council with himself, trying to figure out what would be their next step. Now the Company was at the Hornburg; resting in the area where a battle had been fought not long ago. Merry lay sleeping not far from him. Gimli was gazing at all the strangers around them, Legolas continued to stare into the distance, to the North and the East. Legolas' gaze settled on the young hobbit, and decided it was finally time to rouse him.  
  
" 'The sun is high, all others are up and doing. Come, Master Sluggard, and look at this place while you may.'"  
  
A groan came from the young hobbit, unhappy about not getting his usual amount of sleep, being unsettled from having been separated from his closest of friends, Merry had no true desire to wake yet. While Legolas fully expected for an inquiry about food to come out of the hobbit's mouth, it was a question of another kind,  
  
" 'Where is Aragorn?'  
  
'In a high chamber of the Burg,' said Legolas. 'He has neither rested nor slept, I think. He went hither some hours ago, saying that he must take thought, and only his kinsman, Halbarad, went with him; but some dark doubt or care sits on him.'"  
  
Merry nodded his understanding at Legolas' explanation, then turned his curly head towards the dwarf as he remarked on the Dunedain, the Rangers of the North, the kinsman of Aragorn.  
  
" 'They are a strange company, these newcomers,' said Gimli. 'Stout men and lordly they are, and the Riders of Rohan look almost as boys beside them; for they are grim men of face, worn like weathered rocks for the most part, even as Aragorn himself; and they are silent.'  
  
'But even as Aragorn they are courteous, if they break their silence,' said Legolas. 'And have you marked the brethren Elladan and Elrohir? Less somber is their gear than the others', and they are fair and gallant as Elven- lords; and that is not to be wondered at in the sons of Elrond of Rivendell.'"  
  
Gimli raised his head, "Elladan, was he not the elf betrothed to Rhiannon?"  
  
Legolas nodded, "Yes, her mother was a daughter of Imladris. Elladan and Rhiannon made a sensible match."  
  
"Then why did they not wed?" Merry asked.  
  
Legolas shook his head, "I do not know the full reasons. You can not force love on two people, she was young, he was and still is a wandering warrior. It was not right for them. Rhiannon fancied herself in love with him, infatuated by this creature that so differed from what she knew, this I know. She felt much turmoil when their marriage was called off, as if she was not good enough, as if she was tainted, as if she would never truly be accepted among elves. She knows she is not an elf, her closest connection seems to be with the Numenoreans, she is most like them. I do not know how Elladan feels about the end of their betrothal, but he has not shown any malice towards me, so therefore I believe he was content with their parting."  
  
"Or he is not aware of what has passed between you and our half-elven friend." Gimli remarked.  
  
"She is not half-elven." Merry stated. "She is ¾ elf."  
  
Sometime later Merry spoke his wonderings out loud, for instance, why the Dunedain were here. The three walked towards the Burg as Gimli answered him,  
  
" 'They answered a summons as you heard. Word came to Rivendell, they say: 'Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dunedain ride to him in Rohan!' But whence this message came they are now in doubt. Gandalf sent it, I guess.'  
  
'Nay, Galadriel,' said Legolas. 'Did she not speak through Gandalf of the ride of the Grey Company from the North?'  
  
'Yes, you have it,' said Gimli. 'The Lady of the Wood! She read many hearts and desires. Now why did not we wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?'  
  
Legolas stood before the gate and turned his bright eyes away north and east, and his fair face was troubled. 'I do not think that any would come,' he answered. 'They have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands.'"  
  
Later in the day Aragorn would come down from the Burg and reveal to all that he did not travel the same path as King Theoden and Eomer for any longer, his path was towards the Paths of the Dead. A sure to be trying and dangerous journey that only his kinsman and Legolas and Gimli would make. Merry was to go with Theoden to Edoras, to serve him in the Golden Hall of Medusled. Aragorn had pulled Gimli and Legolas to the side, explaining that he had glimpsed into the Seeing Stone, had let Sauron know that the heir of Isildur did walk the earth. The darkest times were ahead for them all, they were aware of this. All roads of the remaining members of the Fellowship seemed to lead towards Gondor, and then to the land that laid north of it, Mordor.  
  
Brhagdan and Rhiannon had ridden for a time that felt like many days, when only being one and a half. A silence had settled between them. Both had many things on their minds, many ponderings caused by Rhiannon's last vision. They had planned to enter Lorien from the South, until the Lady sent both warnings. It was not time for them to enter the woods of Lorien yet. They were to head towards Mirkwood as soon as possible. Their assistance was needed. What assistance they could offer, Rhiannon did not know. They were coming upon the Northern borders of Lothlorien when Rhiannon stopped her horse, sensing that they were being watched, and knowing who it was that watched them.  
  
"Why do you stop?" Brhagdan asked his sister. "Are you ill, do you need to rest? Is your horse weary?"  
  
"You worry far too much, Brhagdan. And your worries is causing your senses to be dulled, we are being watched, frater."  
  
Brhagdan closed his eyes for a few moments, taking in the peace of the forest, and then, breathing in the seemingly magical air of Lothlorien into his weary lungs, he sensed the eyes that scrutinized him from afar.  
  
"It is just the guardians of Lothlorien. What, do you have a soul mate here also?"  
  
"I do not find you funny." Rhiannon remarked with a very cold expression on her face.  
  
Brhagdan shrugged his broad shoulders, "Gimli would have laughed at my sentiment, as would Legolas."  
  
"Legolas would laugh at anything. He finds many things entertaining."  
  
Brhagdan raised one of his dark eyebrows and gave his sister a look, "I am sure he does."  
  
Rhiannon shook her head, the movement displacing her hood. She made a tsking sound at her brother as she attempted to replace her hood and hold onto the reins of the horse, "What am I to do with you? May I remind you that I do not participate in such affairs in the middle of flat, open land, when a whole camp of men lies not ten yards away, and further more, even if I did, I am an adult."  
  
"It is very easy to forget that about you. You are so childish."  
  
"And you are saying you are so mature?"  
  
"You both are bickering children." An amused and familiar voice spoke to them.  
  
Rhiannon and Brhagdan turned to glance at Haldir, a marchwarden of Lorien, as he made his presence truly known.  
  
"Why are you two stopping here? You still have a very long journey ahead of you."  
  
"Don't you just know everything. You made us stop, your scrutinizing gaze could be felt by anyone." Rhiannon remarked.  
  
"Only one that can sense such things. In fairer times I would welcome you to join us for a quick meal. However, you need to be on your way, as the Lord and Lady have informed me. We hope to have you return to us soon. Your assistance will also be needed here. There are already rumors that an attack is to be mounted on our northern borders."  
  
Rhiannon slightly dropped her head, she stared at the peaceful forest around her and asked, "Is nowhere in Middle Earth safe?"  
  
"Not anymore." Haldir replied, not even bothering to lie to make her feel comfort.  
  
"And there is the lesson that now we all must learn. Peace may never come to these lands again." Brhagdan softly noted.  
  
Rhiannon shook her head and turned towards her brother, "As if my anxiety was not at an already heightened level, you have successful just raised it, brother, congratulations."  
  
Haldir turned to Brhagdan, "How have you put up with her for nine-hundred years. I have only spoken with your sister briefly over a few-months span and many times felt the need to gag her or push her off a talan."  
  
Rhiannon's mouth dropped open in outrage. Brhagdan quickly covered Rhiannon's mouth before the obscenities he was positive were on the tip of her tongue, came flying out. After all these years, she was still not accustomed to elvish humor.  
  
The two bid farewell to the guardians of Lothlorien, belatedly realizing that they would need to camp soon, Rhiannon could take no more of the night- riding. It took extreme amounts of concentration to try to see light in the darkness. They would come to the river soon, within the next day possibly, and then they would have to cross over towards Mirkwood. Rhiannon's stomach turned at the thought of entering the realm, and she did not know why. She studied her brother as he scoped out a safe area for them to rest, and a watering place for the horses. Times like these, she was reminded of a Ranger, her brother having very similar skills to their own. When he was younger, before Rhiannon had been born, her brother had spent years among the Dunedain, learning their ways of protection and survival. Brhagdan, however, was very different when it came to Rangers, he had powers of his own, gifted to him through his mother, the ability to see somewhat in the darkness being one of them. Rhiannon turned her dark head up to the night sky, glowing with stars, and knew that at this time, Cerethena looked at the same stars, that Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli gazed at the same night sky, that the hobbits, and Gandalf all slept under the same vast covering as she did. The thought brought some comfort to the very weary girl. Although one thought did cross her mind as she slowly drifted off to sleep. Haldir did not sleep under the same sky, time flowing differently in his realm. The haughty elf was behind everyone else. Oh, he would pay for that talan comment, just not until everything had settled down.  
  
***  
  
A few days passed, and the two siblings approached the hall of the Elven- king of Mirkwood. It had not be an easy journey in the least, they were able to cross the river by a very rickety bridge that Rhiannon was sure would collapse if they had dwelt on it one second longer. Then there had been the visions assailing her, both ones of what she guessed was the future, and those of which Legolas' was experiencing. He was on a journey through the Paths of the Dead, and while the elf did not seem bothered by it, just wanting to show Rhiannon what she saw, seeing all the ghosts of men had put a form of fear in her. Brhagdan had woken her in the middle of the night, to continue their arduous journey, but morning had still not shown it's golden head.  
  
Rhiannon turned on her horse, glancing at the sky once again.  
  
"What is wrong, sister?"  
  
"The dawn has not come."  
  
"Maybe it is not time."  
  
"No, I felt it, when dawn should have come, my body prepared for it, and the sun has not risen."  
  
"This is not a good sign at all, not in the least. And we will be descending into even more darkness. There is a reason why the forest is called Mirkwood."  
  
Rhiannon looked thoughtful, "I suddenly wish for the warmth of Lothlorien. I know understand Legolas' love of the Golden Wood."  
  
Brhagdan nodded his dark head, "I believe all that travel there fall in love with it. Then again, Legolas could not stop talking about Fangorn."  
  
"He is a wood elf."  
  
"You say that as if it is a bad thing."  
  
"It is not. I am merely stating a fact."  
  
"You are his soul mate, you should not taunt him. Especially not when he is not here to defend himself."  
  
"Now you are his sworn protector?" Rhiannon asked disbelieving.  
  
Brhagdan raised his head as a true nobleman, nose in air and all, "I am merely standing-up for my brother in arms."  
  
Rhiannon threw a cynical glance at her brother, when suddenly a rush came to her head. Stupid visions. This one confused her, the cave she had seen earlier, this time, the inside, there was a female, she was running towards a window, yelling something, suddenly the picture changed, a battlefield, trees everywhere. Rhiannon had seen this before. A blood stained tunic and blonde hair, long blonde hair, blood-stained. A male hand grasping a female one, her hand, she recognized her ring, and there were markings on her hands, markings she only drew on her hands in a time of mourning. Why were the markings there? Whose hand was she holding? Rhiannon took a deep breath and clenched her eyes shut tightly, trying to clear her head.  
  
Brhagdan shook her, "Rhiannon?"  
  
"I had visions, and they make no sense to me. At all."  
  
"What were they of?"  
  
"I can not tell you, I can not explain it." "Maybe it is time to rest."  
  
Rhiannon took a deep breath and shook her head, "No, I feel we need to get to Mirkwood as fast as possible."  
  
Brhagdan looked at his sister, concern filling his golden face, "It will do no good if both you and the horses are exhausted. We have crossed the River that was our largest barrier. Now it is time to rest. Stay here, I will go find a place to rest."  
  
Rhiannon nodded and looked up into the sky, no light, none at all, stars and moon were not shown. She remembered the words of Legolas, if no light was to guide them, then use the inner-light that they possessed. She took a deep breath and drew on her strength, stifling her fear of the chocking darkness that surrounded them.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon tried to remember what day it was, the constant darkness of the last day had made her very disoriented. Dawn had come this morning, and from the distance she could see the outline of a fortress of some kind. As Rhiannon pondered these very pointless thoughts, Brhagdan tapped her shoulder and pointed ahead. Ahead to the dwelling of King Thranduil. Rhiannon tried hard not to let out a gasp at seeing the "palace" of Mirkwood. The cave, stone palace she had seen in her visions. An extreme sense of foreboding came over her, but considering the time, this did not surprise her. Apparently the king had received notice of their entry to his realm, no one had stopped them, or approached them in their journey towards the hall of the Elven-king. They approached the doors and Brhagdan held up a hand.  
  
"Wait, I remember once hearing a tale about these doors. They are well, enchanted. Only opening and closing at command."  
  
"They may be waiting for us." Rhiannon pointed out.  
  
"And if they are not?"  
  
"We have a long wait in front of us."  
  
"We shall find our answers soon enough." Brhagdan surmised. Rhiannon nodded. They came to the doors. Solid rock, closed.  
  
Rhiannon turned to her older brother, "Should we knock?"  
  
"I am almost scared to." He confessed, his green eyes inspecting the impenetrable doors in front of them. Rhiannon made a gesture of agreement, a power did radiate behind those doors. Brhagdan made a suggestion, "Should we say something. Maybe that will cause the doors to open."  
  
Rhiannon tried not to roll her eyes at her older brother, realizing how annoying that habit truly was, "Yes, that is the picture we want to present to already suspicious elves. Crazy beings that talk to doors. They are elves, you idiot, they know we are here."  
  
Brhagdan raised one of his aristocratic brows, not even attempting to hide his smirk," Nervous, little sister, about meeting the father of Legolas?"  
  
"Of course not!" Her horse snorted in disbelief to that comment, "Shush you, you traitor. I didn't mean that. You are a nice, wise, calm, beautiful horse who has proven that you are more than worthy. I just have this anxious feeling."  
  
Rhiannon raised her head to see a very amused look on her brother's face,  
  
"Are you quite finished?" He asked.  
  
"One day, dear brother, you are going to make a continually ass of yourself, and I will be right there, by your side, laughing the whole way." 


	21. Into the Darkness

Disclaimer and A/N about quoted text: See previous chapters.  
  
Chapter 21: Into the Darkness  
  
***  
  
"Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I shall endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here." -Dante Alighieri, Divine Comedy, The  
  
***  
The Grey Company stood before the Dark Door. All, save Legolas, feared to go inside. Yet, all stayed out of loyalty to Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The horses quailed before the door, trying to go back, but knowing that they must bear their riders through the evil arches of the Dark Door. Arod, the horse of Rohan that had borne Legolas and Gimli on many a dangerous journey, would not budge. He was a very smart animal, and had no desire to wander deeper into the darkness. The animal trembled in fear, until, Legolas, an elf, and very close to horses, laid his hands softly on the eyes of the horse. His musical voice sang soft words, calming the horse as much as he could, and Legolas led him through the doorway. Gimli, frozen in fear, knees trembling from the evil and darkness even the most thick of persons could sense, cursed himself as he was left all alone.  
  
" 'Here is a thing unheard of!' he said. 'An Elf will go underground and a Dwarf dare not!'" A bit of resolve came to the dwarf, and even though he moved forward with reluctant feet, he knew he had to go on. There was no light in the passage that the company walked in, except to dim lights from torches, one carried by Aragorn, the other by Elrond's son Elladan. Gimli's fear increased as he realized there was no turning back, that a nameless vaporous host followed the company's footsteps. On and on they went, fear weighing heavily on all that passed through the dark passage, towards an opening, where their fearless leader went forward, examining the skeletal remains of a fallen man, while Elladan held the two torches. Gimli listened as Aragorn murmured phrases he did not understand, Gimli did not hear all, too frightened to do much more than wish that they moved on, as Aragorn's voice rose and he yelled,  
  
" 'Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erch!'"  
Silence descended into their small area, no sound was made, the torches blew out, plunging the company into complete darkness. The group continued on in the darkness, fear crippling all, especially the valiant dwarf, who in most cases knew little fear, now felt it to the most extreme. As they passed through another archway, this one more lighter than the first, all mounted their horses, Gimli going to Legolas, never so happy to see horse or elf. Legolas turned his head, and with no fear in his voice remarked,  
" 'The Dead are following. I see shapes of Men and of horses and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following.'"  
  
Elladan, the last live rider nodded his head and remarked, not phased by the Dead that followed directly behind him, " 'Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned.'"  
As the siblings of the Isle of Emerald contemplated how to enter the hall of Thranduil, the doors opened, slowly. Rhiannon's breath caught in her throat, fear forming from what laid inside the dark cave of a palace. An elf stood behind the doors, the silent sentry staring at them, studying them for weapons. He said nothing, just gave a nod and motioned for the two siblings to dismount. Another elf appeared off to the side, seemingly out of the air, but truly it was just how well his attire allowed him to blend into their natural surroundings. The elf spoke soothing words to their startled horses and led them off, presumably to a stable. The elf at the entrance to the cave motioned for the two to follow them. Sister and brother took deep breathes as they followed the elf into the unknown darkness. They walked out of the dark passageway into a hall that was very busy. Elves of all kinds walked back and forth, some in battle gear, others in what seemed like servants clothes, all seemed to ignore the two intruders to their realm. A somber mood hung in the air, Rhiannon could sense it, a sadness that she was almost able to touch, but it was just that far out of her mental grasp. The guide, noting her facial expression, spoke, startling both Rhiannon and Brhagdan as he broke his silence.  
"It has been a difficult week," their guide remarked, "we lost two of our most beloved soldiers to an unforeseen orc attack. There has also been some unknown trouble in the outskirts of our city. I sincerely hope it is not the spiders again. A messenger of Lord Elrond of Imladris also came bearing a note that one of the younger princes."  
"Princes?" Brhagdan asked, clearly emphasizing the plural.  
The elf seemed confused, "Yes, princes. There are four. The King wanted a daughter and he kept on getting sons. After Almon he just stopped. Now I think he hopes to have a daughter-in-law through at least one of his sons. Although none of the princes seem eager to wed. Especially the younger three. We need the return of a feminine touch in our hall, has not been the same since Vanelaure left us."  
  
"Vanelaure?" Rhiannon asked, intrigued.  
  
"The Queen of course. She's been gone for countless years now. In fact, the youngest prince is not even her son."  
  
"Lieveryo, that is quite enough. I'm sure the two visitors have just been bombarded by information and require a slight respite from your gossip."  
Rhiannon and Brhagdan glanced at the powerful voice that had spoken these past words. Power radiated from the person before them, obviously the King of the Hall. He seemed ageless, a young countenance, but his eyes spoke of years of experience that Rhiannon could not even begin to comprehend. It was similar to the feeling she felt when she first met Elrond, the feeling she still had when around the Lord and Lady of the Wood. Within the somewhat weary face, a melancholy was there, there was also a sparkle of merriment in those clear eyes. His long golden hair fell to his waist, held back from his face by a small braid. A crown of flowers and leaves encircled his head. An amused smirk played on his lips at seeing the very confused and shocked stares on the faces of the ones before him.  
  
"Brhagdan and Rhiannon, welcome to the Realm of Mirkwood. Lord Elrond sent word of your arrival; hence the reason you were allowed to pass into my land unhindered. Normally unknown intruders are captured, judged by me, and put in the dungeons."  
  
Rhiannon nodded her head, "We were told as such. We had hoped that if we were captured, the letter we bear from your son would be enough to grant us entry." Rhiannon reached into the pocket on the inside of her cloak, and pulled out the small sheet of parchment which contained Legolas' rather hurried note, handing it to his father. King Thranduil glanced at the note briefly, and then studied the faces of the two unknowns before him.  
  
"Rhiannon, come with me. Lieveryo, take Brhagdan down to the training fields. Tell the chief soldier to watch him personally. Also, check on the horses, they had a long, hard journey and need to be properly fed and watered." The elf nodded, taking his orders without question. Brhagdan and Rhiannon shared one last desperate glance as they were guided off into different directions.  
  
***  
  
Thranduil observed the young female that sat across from him in his study. Most people that were brought in front of him for the first time tended to be very agitated, they would look around the room, glance out the door, look everywhere but at his face. They would often study their hands and their clothes, looking for invisible traces of lint and dirt that were never there to begin with. This one, she was different. Her gaze was riveted to a spot over his shoulder, she was staring at something in the forest, slightly visible through the windows set high above them. She was trying to center herself, he watched, fascinated as the nervous energy faded from her person. Only when a sense of calm truly settled over her did she turn her eyes towards him. She was waiting for him to start the conversation, the young one did know her manners.  
  
"The letter my son sent with you states that you are his soul mate, but not his wife, although he seems to feel I should treat you as such," Thranduil watched fascinated as one of her dark brows arched,  
  
"That was awfully presumptuous of him."  
  
He answered with his own arched brow, "You do not plan on wedding my son? Truly bonding with him?"  
  
"I know little of his life, his world, he knows little of mine."  
  
"There must have been an attraction there, must have been something between the two of you to connect as you have."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
Thranduil studied her for a moment, "You doubt things, now that you have come to his home."  
  
The female hesitated, thought, and then spoke her words carefully, "Many things confuse me, King Thranduil, I have had many, visions you could say, and all seem to involve this Hall, or the people associated with it."  
  
Thranduil tried to gauge her reaction to his next statement, "Then you must have seen Lostladion's death."  
  
Rhiannon squeezed her eyes shut at those words, "Then he has died."  
  
"His body has."  
  
"I do not think what I saw was him. In my vision, I was on the field; I was there."  
  
"Are you informing me that more of my soldiers will die?"  
  
"There is war about us, of course more of your soldiers will die."  
  
"If you were there than the soldier in question must be known to you. You only know three of my people, one which is dead, one which is know progressing towards Mordor, and lastly Menepaurion. Menepaurion is not a fighter, he is an advisor to my son, and a student of healing, but he is not a fighter."  
  
"For some odd reason that does not surprise me."  
  
"He shares similar ill feelings towards you, however I think the two of you will change."  
  
"And Hades will no longer be the underworld." Rhiannon muttered under her breath.  
  
"Hades?"  
  
"Forgive me, my culture, or an aspect of it."  
  
"If only there was more time in this world to learn of the existence you have come from." Rhiannon considered this statement. Studying the King, finding herself surprised, for he was not the image she had built up in her head.  
  
The King spoke again, "Since you consider my son's assertion to treat you as a wife of one of my sons as a very presumptuous act; what am I to treat you as?"  
  
"A guest?" Rhiannon asked uncertain, still confused about many things. She continued, "My brother was apparently sent here to assist you in the defense of your realm, but I wonder why I was sent here."  
  
"That is a very simple question, Rhiannon. Surely someone with your abilities to discern situations has figured such a simple question out." Thranduil waited for an answer from the silent and now very confused female in front of him. He sighed, she was not thinking with her full ability, "Rhiannon, here you are safe, in my fortified stone hall, those that love you, care for you deeply, need not have worry, if you are safe in my hall. You are endeared to more than you know, Rhiannon, their minds will be at ease. There are many reasons why you are here, your protection most prominent, your continued education in our world second. The continued discovery of the life of my son, a life that you will now forever be a part of." Thranduil gave her a rare, gentle smile, already feeling a connection with this little complex young one before him. She would surely make his life interesting, take away some of the weariness that weighed on his soul. He could sense the auras of both his son and his wife on her, the guidance they both lent to her in these darker times. Yes, this one would bring many unconventional occurrences to his home, he could already sense it. The two immortal siblings would definitely cause a stir throughout his realm.  
  
"Come, " Thranduil spoke as he stood from his desk and offered his hand to Rhiannon, "You must rest. We all need to be alert and aware for the coming days."  
  
Thranduil led her out of his study, down the many passageways, towards the quarters of the Royal Family and their guests. Thranduil guided her down the hallway that led to the wing which contained the rooms of his sons, they came to a stop in front of a pair of beautifully carved wooden doors. Elven arches, trees, leaves, dragons, all were etched into the wooden doors, nestled into the stone.  
  
"We were not expecting you for another day, the two of you really did exhaust those horses by riding as fast as you did. And it was folly to ride at night. However, you are all here, and alive and well, and this is all that matters. I digress, we do not have any empty guest rooms prepared, so you and Brhagdan will stay in the empty rooms of my sons that are abroad. It seems only logical that you stay in the rooms of Legolas, perhaps, you may discover something of what has made my son as he is."  
  
Rhiannon gave a small nod, her young face full of uncertainty. The King looked down on here, and lightly petted her hair, "Safe dreams, young one, my son informed me you sometimes have dark visions while you sleep. All will seem better after you have rested in a comfortable bed."  
  
"How much did Legolas manage to put into that note? It was written in a very short time."  
"We do have Elvish shorthand, and Legolas has always been a fast writer. What surprises me most is that someone was carrying parchment, quill, and ink with them. Now, no more of this frivolous talk, you are to rest."  
  
"It is only daylight."  
  
"You need your sleep, now go." He nudged her into the now open doors, and smiled at the anxious look that played in her eyes. Yes, she would be a light in the dark hall.  
  
***  
  
A/N: This may be the last for awhile, Final Exams coming up. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews and please continue, they really do help. Comments, questions, etc. you can im me at misli22 


	22. Memories of the Past, Thoughts on the Fu...

Disclaimer: Previous chaps. A/N: Begging, again, please, please review. And the direct quote comes from "The Silmarillion." ***  
  
Chapter 22: Memories of the Past, Thoughts on the Future  
  
"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape."  
  
-John Lancaster Spalding ***  
Rhiannon crept into the dark room that Legolas had occupied as he grew- up in his father's Hall, and suddenly understood his deep hatred for caves and dark caverns. There were no windows in the room, in fact, the Hall had very few windows, being craved out of stone it would, understandably, be difficult to put windows in rooms that did not need them. However, the bedroom seemed so much more sinister in the darkness that filled it. Not even a candle was lit and it was only with her hard concentration that she was able to maneuver her way through the room and find a candelabra. The ensuing moments would have been very humorous to an outsider as Rhiannon attempted to make her way across the dark room, constantly cursing as her feet came in contact with many unforeseen pieces of furniture. As she neared the candelabra she found that there were no matches to light the wick. For many moments Rhiannon contemplated her current situation, she was not about to maneuver her way across the dark room again to go out into the Hall and find someone who could light the candles for her, she already had enough bruises at it was. Suddenly a voice ran through Rhiannon's head, one that had taught her how to maintain some control over her minute powers. Cerethena's voice was quite amused, "You have spent far too much time in that world, little one, if you have forgotten how to light a candle with no matches. Surely I have taught you better than that, or perhaps you really are in need of sleep to regain your bearings." Rhiannon made an annoyed scowl at the voice, sure that wherever Cerethena was watching her from, she could see it. Rhiannon was also annoyed at her own stupidity for not remembering that she knew how to create flames without even having a candle handy. Sometimes she could smack herself. Softly muttering the phrases long ingrained in her mind, over and over again, their power gaining as confidence in her powers returned to her voice, the candles before her lit, bringing much appreciated warmth with their golden glow. Rhiannon now had the chance to study the room of Legolas, knowing that all the pieces contained in the room held great memories in their care. She looked at one of the walls, where many bows, of various sizes, rested on mounts as trophies won in competition. With a tentative hand, Rhiannon reached out to the smallest of bows, feeling the memory it contained jump into her mind, filling her with the happiness it contained. ***  
  
A young Legolas, in his first archery lesson. The lesson that taught him to always pay attention to where he was letting the arrow go, Rhiannon noticed with much laughter as another blonde, blue-eyed elf, similar to Legolas, fled the arrow that now seemed to be sailing right towards him. Rhiannon watched as an outsider, an older elf, gave young Legolas a look, "Now, Prince Legolas, you must pay attention to your target or you shall miss."  
  
The smile that came over the young elfling's face was priceless, "I did not miss." Rhiannon smiled as the memory faded and she came back to her current surroundings. ***  
  
Night came over the lands. The Grey Company passed with the following of the Dead. The villages of Men they encountered on their way, fled in fear from the company. They were steadily advancing towards Gondor, aware that the world was full of tension, aware that time was running out, and also aware that whether or not they reached Gondor in time, the fate of the world lied in the hands of two small hobbits. It was hard to have faith in such times, but faith they must have. The Company held to them words passed on by Elrond from Mithrandir, from the last meeting of the White Council, " 'Many are the strange changes of the world, and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.'" Help from the hands of the weak when the Wise faltered. The Weak saving the Wise, the strong. What was Wisdom? What was Strength? What was Weakness? ***  
  
Rhiannon woke-up with a start, a feeling of much disconcertion coming over her until she recognized her surroundings. She had laid down on the bed for a moment, feeling exhausted by all the memories of Legolas' life that had bombarded her senses. She had apparently fallen into a deep sleep. The room was darker, if that was possible, then when she had entered in the afternoon. She had meant to explore this dark realm, with it's own mysterious beauty, but her body had not permitted her that. Rhiannon quickly lit the candles again, and stared around the room, wondering what she was to do now. She saw her two small packs resting by a chair, brought in by some elf while she slept. That thought did not settle well with her, she had always awoken when someone had opened the doors to her quarters. Her instincts were weakening. The events of the past day came back to her, and she remembered that Lostladion was, in fact, dead. Rhiannon grabbed the smaller of her two bags and carried it to her bed. The pack contained items that would seem very foreign to peoples of this land, they contained her ceremonial clothing, jewelry, medicines, and other objects. She had been taught to never go anywhere without them, as trivial as they may have seemed to others, they were entwined with her beliefs. She had not opened the pack once since she had entered the realm of Middle-Earth. She reached in and felt around for the small pouch that contained the brush, dyes, and paint she would need to decorate her hands with the proper mourning markings. Lostladion may have not been a close friend, but he had been a friend none the less, and she would honor him.  
  
Some time later, with the dyes and paints drying on her hands, in their intricate patterns, a restless Rhiannon quietly slipped out of her chamber. She had no idea where she was going; just believed a journey was in order. She would just follow her feet. The Hall of Thranduil had many twists and turns and kept one very on edge at night; it was no wonder that Legolas had turned out the way he had. Rhiannon heard soft, beautiful signing. There was such sorrow in it, she had to go and comfort the elf that sang such a song of sadness. She found herself in front of what seemed to be a receiving room. She peaked into the room and quickly backed out, taking in sharp deep breathes at the sight she was not prepared to see. There, on a stone slab covered in silk draperies, Lostladion's body laid out, for all to pay their respects. She feared to go into the room, knowing that the shock of the body up close might be powerful enough to send to Legolas, no matter how hard she would strive not to. With another deep breath, she silently crept into the room. She studied Lostladion's body with a sort of emotional detachment. His tunic and leggings seemed to be of the finest material Mirkwood had to offer. Candles surrounded his body, bathing it in an eerie golden glow. Off to the side sat a beautiful she elf; softly singing the song of Lamentation Rhiannon had heard earlier. She approached the female, purposefully making noise so not to startle the female elf. The she-elf turned curious eyes towards her, but continued her song in the lilting Elvish music. Rhiannon suddenly wished she had remembered those few Elvish lessons her mother had forced on her. She wished to know if this she- elf was Lostladions's wife, mother, sister, daughter, or just a close- friend. As Rhiannon approached the body of her onetime friend, she caught glimpses of his death, the imprint of the memory forced into his body. A memory that would never fade. An ambush of orcs and only two elves to fight. Both had died. This was not the vision she had received, witnessed twice before she had arrived to Mirkwood. Lost in her own thoughts, it took her a moment to realize the singing had stopped.  
  
"Why have you stopped?"  
  
"My song was finished." The voice was soft and accented, proof that while this elf knew the common tongue, she did not speak it often. Rhiannon gave a nod to the she-elf's answer towards her inquiry, it was a very logical reason.  
  
"I know who you are." The she-elf stated.  
  
"Do you?" Rhiannon asked, "I feel as if I do not know who I am, most of the time. I once met a man said to be the wisest of all. He said he was the wisest because he knew nothing, and was aware that he knew nothing."  
  
The she-elf gave her a confused look.  
  
"I know you by reputation. You are the half-elven that has visions. My brother told me about you."  
  
"So then, you are Lostladion's sister."  
  
"No. I am the sister of Menepaurion."  
  
Rhiannon bit her tongue and tried desperately not to make a judgment on the elf, based on her brother. Cerethena always said to never judge people by their kin.  
  
"Why do you then sing a song of Lamentation for Lostladion?"  
  
"I sing for the grief my brother does not have the will to profess. And for the grief my dear friend Legolas does not yet know."  
  
Rhiannon could only help but wonder how dear of a friend this she-elf was of Legolas. She was very surprised at her own jealousy. Where in the realms did that come from?  
  
"You are a good sister and loyal friend to sing for the grief of others."  
  
"According to Brhagdan you are also a good sister and loyal friend."  
  
Rhiannon could not hide her surprise, "You have met my brother?"  
  
"After the evening meal, he went to continue his training while you rested."  
  
Rhiannon gave a thoughtful nod, the whole experience seeming odd to her.  
  
"If I may ask, what is your name?" The she-elf asked.  
  
"I thought you already knew."  
  
"I know who you are; but I doubt that what my brother calls you is your proper name."  
  
Good, old predictable, annoying Menepaurion. Half the elves in Mirkwood must think her to be a cold, calculating, graceless excuse for a half- elven. Paranoid, of course not. "My name is Rhiannon."  
  
"That is a pretty name. It rolls off the tongue very well. My name is Laurea."  
  
"Laurea. That is all? Elves usually seem to have such complicated names."  
  
"My parents could not think of a proper name for me. Laurea can mean 'golden.' It seemed proper."  
  
The two females fell silent as they studied each other. A bell sounded in the distance, signaling something, for Laurea quickly jumped up, excusing herself as she hurried off. ***  
  
Rhiannon let the silence of the room envelope her as the elven maiden ran off to where ever she needed to be. She breathed in the scent of the room; the wax of the candles, the smell of the wick, the faint scent of honey and flower in the air. It all reminded her of a tomb, or the antechamber at home where they prepared the bodies for their pyres. The more she breathed in the air, breathed in the potency, the power of the atmosphere, the headier she felt. She was starting to feel dizzy, as her mind opened itself up, her powers stretching, reaching out. To what they reached for, she did not know, and was very unwilling to find out. She shut her eyes tightly closed, took a deep breath, brought her balance back. Even if it killed her, she would learn to control this. She focused on Lostladion's body again. Knowing that his soul, his true immortal part, had left. The body was only a vessel, all knew this. The body was mourned for it was the tangible part, the proof that the heart no longer beat within the chest. There was no real proof that the soul lived on. But memories, memories were forever.  
Rhiannon jumped and turned around as a warm hand grasped her shoulder. King Thranduil stood there, but he somehow seemed more approachable. A warm smile graced his beautiful features, his crown removed from his head, his golden hair unbound, his robes of a simple make. She could see parts of Legolas in this soft features, the smile, warm yet mischievous. She wondered what he must have looked like before he saw his father fall in battle, before that battle took 2/3 of the army of what was then Greenwood. Legolas, on more than one of those nights when she could not sleep, had told her the most basic of tale about his homeland. His father's love for jewels and the deep grief he carried with him being most prominent in those tales.  
  
"Many thoughts pass through your mind, it is almost disruptive to me." The musical voice of the King echoed in the silence.  
  
Rhiannon was silent, deciding it would be best to choose her words carefully, "I am just thinking about many things. How tales are greatly exaggerated about people. How those, written down in history as barbarians and villains, actually seem to be of a more valiant standing once you are on their side."  
Thranduil knew of what she spoke, but decided it best to not acknowledge her thoughts. "You should be sleeping."  
  
"I am not tired. Is my brother available?"  
  
"No, I am afraid we must have him trained and ready to fight. The darkness descends even faster upon my land. You will be safe in this hall, do not worry."  
  
"My brother is out there, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, they are all out there. The hobbits are out there. Men of strong will, brave and true valor are out there, all fighting the same thing. Of course I worry."  
  
Thranduil, while acknowledging this in his mind, did not do so in his question, "Gimli? That sounds like the name of a dwarf."  
  
"He is a close friend of Legolas. Yes, he is a dwarf."  
  
"My son is friends with a dwarf?"  
  
Rhiannon did not even attempt to hold back her exasperation, no matter how much she admitted the King of Mirkwood was not as horrible as she was led to believe, he was quite an arrogant elf; "King Thranduil, now is hardly the time to hold a grudge and prejudice towards any ally, no matter their background. They are allies just the same. Besides, from what I have heard, you benefit from many of the creations of dwarves."  
  
Thranduil arched one of his golden brows, "I see you have quite the sharp-tongue on you. Apparently you did not receive any form of elven tact from your.mother, is it? I see my son has decided to take on quite a challenge. You are sure to bring some very entertaining moments to my home in the future."  
  
Rhiannon had at first expected censure in the gaze of the King, instead she found only good humor.  
  
"You are not what you seem." She stated.  
  
"And neither are you."  
  
***  
  
Menepaurion stared at the female that was now his charge. He had to admit he was surprised that the seemingly overly-arrogant half-elven had survived in this land. During this time. As much as he truly hated to, he had to give her credit, she obviously had an immense survival instinct, however, he was still not happy about her involvement with Legolas. He could only see it resulting in very sad times. Legolas would surely have the Call of the Sea in his heart soon; it was almost certain with the obvious end of the time of the elves. The Call, the inability to feel whole on the land of Arda, would pull the prince towards Valinor, and there Rhiannon, he was positive could not go. She did not even truly believe in the Valar, for to her, they were just another set of Gods in the unending sects of religion she had surely seen. Menepaurion knew her kind, had seen her world in the days when had courted one of her kind. So very long ago that was. Her world had intrigued him, their understanding of the balance between Good and Evil. They did not to attempt to destroy all the darkness that descended in their lands, understanding that it was needed to experience one's life to the full. For good to exist, evil must also be known, for darkness to be present, light needed to also be present at one time. The land he had been to, in her realm, was full of what all of Middle Earth would see as the "Good" and "Free" peoples. They did not have orcs, but dark faery. They did not have a Sauron, but many other deceivers, many wolves in sheep's clothing as he had heard stated. The seeming Good were actually the darker Evil. As much as he did not approve of this female, nor her brother for that matter, considering the fact his sister, Laurea, practically swooned every time that male looked her way, he had to begrudgingly give her respect. She had power, or she would have power if she could only put down her own pride and fears and become what she was fully meant to be..That was besides the point. A strength resided in the seemingly helpless and innocent young child that now sat before him. He understood why his King has asked him to watch over her, and to teach her the ways of their kind, but he did not truly see the reason for it. She was tied to the earth, to her realm, anyone that even attempted to gaze into her soul could see that plainly. Even if she did believe in the Valar, in their belief system as a whole, he highly doubted she would beseech her world, her people, her duty, for that of...could it be called love? Truly? He studied Rhiannon. The ability of a great, if not rather hurried love, laid between her and Legolas, but as of right now, it was little more than mutual affection. That could be understandable, her and his dear friend could not have had much time together, and even if they had their would have been a whole camp of Men around them; hardly the perfect settings for starting a true courtship. Rhiannon's dark hair, which he was used to seeing in what could only be described as a monstrous disarray was punished into a tight plait down her back. Her face plainly showed and for once he was struck by something that laid by her right eye. Was that a jewel imbedded there? How odd. His gaze scrutinized her costume. The King had suggested Rhiannon dress in a tunic and leggings for her lessons on how to properly ride a horse and use a bow and arrow. Honestly, Menepaurion did not understand why he had to teach her how to wield a weapon, he had not fought in centuries, Thraduil's decree, since he was the only male left in his family, the only relative to his young, unwed, sister. Rhiannon shifted, not comfortable in her attire. Her body type was quite different from most of their females. The non-elven blood that was in her make-up showed in the fact that her hips were wider than most. Menepaurion briefly wondered if she had ever given birth before. Her leggings were a pair of his sister's, yet the tunic was an old, unused piece of clothing from the King. Laurea's did not fit Rhiannon properly, and the King, being relatively broad-shouldered, gladly provided them with this one. Her fingers nervously fluttered up and down the bow in her hands. The colored patterns dyed into her skin intrigued him, and he wondered what they were for, yet felt it was not proper to ask. The soft elven boots were an old pair Legolas had worn as a child, fitting the not so small feet of the female. Menepaurion could have made a scathing comment about her non-dainty feet, but deiced that it would not be best to start them off on even worse terms. He cleared his throat, Rhiannon's gaze immediately coming to meet his own.  
  
"We must make you at the least sufficient with the bow by the next morn. The problem with you and the horses is a matter of respect, therefore we can do that whenever. This however, your training, can not wait any longer. We will go to a lesser used training field. Hopefully, no one will be harmed this way."  
  
He walked out of the room, waiting for Rhiannon's witty retort, but none never came. It almost sadden him. This was not the same female he had left at the borders of the Golden Wood.  
Menepaurion would admit that as elven patience went, he did not have a great deal of it. But this was just ridiculous. A dwarf could shoot faster than the time it took Rhiannon.  
  
"For the love of the Valar, Rhiannon! Just shoot the arrow!"  
  
Her head snapped around and her gaze was full of fire,  
  
"Do not rush me you good for nothing, pain in the ..oohh." Rhiannon stopped, having, in her frustration released the arrow and looking, found it perfectly imbedded in the center of her target.  
  
Menepaurion threw his hands up in the air in frustration, "Well, there is our answer to the great riddle. For you to shoot properly you only need to not be looking at the target and yelling at someone else. What god did I anger to be cursed with this duty?"  
  
"Probably the god of hyperbole and just plain over-exaggeration. Maybe the god of that little thing called patience and tact?"  
  
Menepaurion let out a very un-elf-like snort, "You, my dear friend, are not one to talk. Patience and tact are not your strong points. Come, we will try this again, until you are able to hit the target while looking at it."  
  
The rest of the hours of daylight were consumed with the teaching. Thranduil was very pleased to find both teacher and student returned intact and relatively unharmed. ***  
  
Legolas was amazed at the change in his long time friend, once known as Estel, now known as Aragorn, and if destiny did play out well, and all prophecies fulfilled, he would be known as Elessar. Legolas had seen Aragorn command the Dead, the Dead that now carried the Grey Company towards Gondor, on ships, with banners of some kind unfurled, but not the banner that the Lady Arwen had created for Aragorn son of Arathorn. Legolas stood on one of the decks, Gimli not far from him, the twin sons of Elrond on his other side. One of the dark-haired twins, Elrohir, he was guessing, turned his head to the Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
"Our father tells us you are bound to Rhiannon, through a bond that is both strong and weak. That of the mind, and of the mind only."  
  
"Yes, this is true."  
  
The other dark-haired twin turned his head towards the Prince,  
  
"I did not love her Legolas, I will make that certain so you will not take what I am about to say in the wrong light. The break to our betrothal was quite messy, and I regret to say, I hurt her greatly, but know this: I gave her up for I knew that I am, and will be a warrior. I gave her up for there was a longing in my heart to bring pain to those that brought me pain. I released her from our betrothal because I knew that no amount of her love could quench the longing for revenge and justice I felt, and still feel in my soul. I could not give all that up for her. I ask you, Prince of Mirkwood, fellow warrior, at the end our time on this land, when the longing for the Sea surely comes to your heart, will you be able to give that up for her?"  
  
Legolas, in his best diplomatic voice, attained from years of watching both his father and elder brothers at court spoke through slightly clenched teeth, "Our bond is already formed. It can not be broken."  
  
"But it can be deepened. You could wed and she could." Elladan stopped as his brother gave him a look.  
  
"I love her, I already know this, have already felt its stirrings within my heart. She is a puzzle, and I know that no short amount of time will allow to discover all that there is to know about her, even being bound to her as I am now, she is still a mystery to me. I care for her deeply, and that should be enough. If our bond is deepened, then so be it. I will not deny such beauty if and when it comes to us. She will forever be in my life, no matter where we are. There is no going back now, I know this, as does Rhiannon."  
  
"You can only hurt her, Legolas. In the end, you can only hurt her." Elladan's voice was incredibly soft as he spoke these words, as if he had seen the future of their time, and knew the ending. ***  
  
Rhiannon, begrudgingly, sat in the private rooms of King Thranduil, as he personally administered to the sore muscles in her arms, her back, her shoulders.  
  
"Why are you doing this? Should you not be tending to tactical plans for the upcoming battle?"  
  
Thranduil gifted Rhiannon with a warm smile, he always seemed to bestow them on her, finding her just to be the most amusing thing he had ever set eyes on.  
  
"My son would have my head if I returned him to you harmed. He may appear to be calm, but he has a temper that is unrivaled by anyone save me."  
  
"That is obviously where he gets it from. Although, I have never seen you cross."  
  
"I will try my best to never be cross with you. You have this quality about you that makes me want to protect you from all hurt. Call it a fatherly instinct."  
  
"Hey there, Papa, you are treading on some tremulous ground."  
  
"No, I am just slowly persuading you to seduce, charm, and then marry my son."  
  
"Thranduil!" The King shrugged his shoulders and continued to relax the muscles in the forearms of Rhiannon, "I desire grandchildren, you are the only female any of my sons have shown interest in."  
  
"That is all I am to you!"  
  
"No, you are also a constant source of mirth for me. Rhiannon, I am joking, I mean not to offend you."  
  
"I know you are joking, the sadness recedes from your eyes."  
  
Both were contemplative for a moment, letting the silence speak for them. Rhiannon turned to the King, questions that had been plaguing her coming to her mind,  
  
"You have produced heirs, King Thranduil, why do you not pass into the West, and leave behind all of the sadness that weighs upon your soul?  
  
Baffled, the King looked up at her. He was quiet for some time,  
  
"Have you ever been in love before Rhiannon? Forgive me, of course you have not. Know this, young one, to truly love another, to truly will yourself to be that weak, that vulnerable to another person, takes all the courage and strength you have within your spirit. The loss of love, in it's deepest and purest form causes death, not only for elves, but for many different kinds. I am sorry, I have not answered your question, my mind always tends to wander when I speak to you. Hope, hope keeps me here, Rhiannon. Hope that one day my wife will return to me, after she has fulfilled her duty. And do not believe that you are her only charge, Rhiannon. There were many that she was designated to guide and protect throughout their lives, she told me as much before we wed. She warned of the pain I would experience, loving her, and yet I still followed what I desired. I still feel grief over my father's death, over the loss of so much life, and yet I feel even going over to the West would not lessen that pain, in the least. Some memories, we can not be rid of, and that memory will always be with me. As will the memory of my wife, a memory I am not sad about, for I still fervently believe she will return to me. One day, Rhiannon, you will come to be as I am. You will have grave memories that will weigh upon your very soul, drag you down at times into an abyss of sadness and regret that you can not climb out of. Hope will one day be the only emotion that will keep you going, in the darkest hours, hope for the one that has left you, hope that the one will return, is all that will keep you from leaving this life. I wish I could give you words of comfort, but you are already aware that what lies ahead is not an easy road. Will you have the strength to openly give yourself over to the powerful emotions you have already felt at times but choose to bury inside yourself? Or will you continue to run for fear of the vulnerability you would put yourself, and my son, in?"  
  
A thoughtful looked passed over the young female's face,  
  
"Out of all the tales of I have heard of you, and your realm, not once did I think to find a good deal of wisdom in the King."  
  
"Well, let's not let that rumor out, it is safer and more enjoyable for me if all the others just see me as the King of the Wood elves who lives in a dank cave and desires nothing but gold and jewels. It keeps my court less crowded. All they want me for is my wine, and sometimes, my entertainment."  
  
"I do not know whether to laugh or to question you further."  
  
"Now is not the time for questions, little one, you should take some rest, leave the rest of your cares for tomorrow morning, and further more, maybe you should try to communicate with Legolas."  
  
Rhiannon nodded, her sore muscles now relaxed, and left the rooms of the King, for her own rooms, just down the hall. 


	23. For in the Sleep of Death What Dreams Ma...

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
Chapter 23: "For in the Sleep of Death What Dreams May Come"  
  
Omnes una manet nox - The same night awaits us all. (Horace)  
  
The Fifteenth of March in the year 3019 of the Third Age would be one of the most eventful days in history. The Witch-King would break the Gates at the city of Minas Tirith, and in doing so would bring great injury with his darkness to the Lady Éowyn, dressed as a soldier, and the hobbit Merry. Denethor, the Lord of Gondor, captured in the claws of madness, would throw himself on a pyre, and burn to death. King Theoden, the great man that had risen anew with the power of Mithrandir, would be slain as the Battle of the Pelennor Fields occurred on the grounds of Gondor. Aragorn, with the ships of the Dead, the specters of old warriors fulfilling their vows, would come upon the city, unfurling the standard made for him by the Lady Arwen and would bring his Grey Company to the battlefields to fight and defend the last kingdom of Men. In Mordor, Samwise, the ever-faithful servant having found his very weary and battle-beaten master Frodo at the Tower, would help him escape and then begin their arduous journey of setting out towards Mount Doom to destroy the One Ring. Lorien, that sanctuary seemingly untouched by time, reigned over by Lord Celeborn and the Lady of the Golden Wood, Galadriel, would be assaulted for the second time by the forces coming from Dol Guldur. And in Mirkwood, the elven realm that seemed to always be assailed by the forces of Dol Guldur, a battle would rage under the trees, a great fire would blaze in the wood. Lórien would be assaulted for a third time in the days after the 15th, but they would win. The elves of both realms would fight valiantly and win, even if the victory was bittersweet. They had driven the forces out, but those leaders of those realms, still did not know the fate of the One Ring. All wondered, if the fighting of this day was in vain. No matter how they fought, if they won or not, if Sauron captured the Ring, all of their work, of all the peoples, would be for nothing.  
  
***  
  
In the realm of Mirkwood, on the morning of the 15th of March, Brhagdan of the Emerald Isle, of a realm unknown to most inhabitants of Middle Earth, awoke with a slight smile on his face. The journey to the realm of Mirkwood, a journey he had been positive would be of no real value to him, turned out to be one of the best journeys he had taken in a long time. Not only was his own military training being perfected by the teaching of elves that regularly had to defend the borders of Mirkwood, he had also met a lovely she-elf, who seemed to know quite a lot about battle, and other topics of interests that Brhagdan had found many females did not care about. Laurea, she was a lovely female. If they had more time together, Brhagdan would have attempted to start a relationship with her. However, time was short, very short, he could feel it. Especially in this morning, he felt it in his soul. Something was going to happen today. He did not know if it was for good or ill. Only the progression of the day would tell. Brhagdan pushed himself out of the soft bed.  
  
He had not seen his sister in almost three days. He had been training, as had she. When she was not training she always seemed to be in council with the King and one of the King's other sons, his heir, that had just returned the previous day. They would see each other at dinner, but Rhiannon would still be in a form of lessons as the elf Menepaurion attempted to teach her the speech of the elves of Mirkwood. This resulted in more than one humorous moment when Rhiannon, forgetting her place, would throw proverbial daggers at Menepaurion and demand in a cold voice Brhagdan rarely heard from his sister,  
  
"What did you just call me? You may think I do not know your language, but I have always made it a point to learn the words for insults in any language."  
  
Menepaurion would shakes his golden head and roll his eyes, "I did not insult you. I actually complimented you. The word for the insult you are thinking is similar to what I just said, but they are pronounced slightly different. Honestly, you have no listening and comprehension skills."  
  
With a look of pure fury are her flushed countenance Rhiannon would then grind out, through a closed jaw, "Excuse me, but I consider it a flaw of language if a word of insult and a word of compliment are so similar."  
  
Menepaurion, with a very flippant air would match Rhiannon's glare with one of his own, the elf was either fearless or stupid, possibly both, "You criticize our language, you criticize us."  
  
Indignant, Rhiannon would forget her place and stand, "I did not say any such thing!"  
  
Menepaurion would answer her stand, and her statement with the childish retort, "Yes, you did!"  
  
Only to be answered with the just as childish, "No, I did not you prancing little.."  
  
Then King Thranduil, while trying and failing miserably to hide his smile, would hold up a hand and beg the two to stop, for they were making his stomach hurt with all the laughter. Menepaurion would get this look on his face as if someone had just poured purple dye all over his best green outfit and Rhiannon would get this look of exasperation. Brhagdan always felt so at home at those times.  
  
Pulling himself from his memories, Brhagdan stretched and prepared himself for his training. Today would be an eventful day, he could feel it.  
  
***  
  
Rhiannon suddenly awoke from her dreams in the middle of the night. She was breathing rapidly and heavily, what she had seen in her dreams scaring her. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm. A tentative hand reached for the glass of water she kept by her bed. The images made little sense to her. She saw fire, a large fire, it swirled, and became a vaporous black cloud hovering above a crumbling city. She did not understand, she did not understand at all. Rhiannon laid back on the numerous pillows that rested on the bed and concentrated on the dream, trying to make it more concrete. She needed to get a night of restful sleep, every night had resulted in a disturbing nightmarish vision that left her without any of the comforts Morpheus . Oh, that sneaky god of Dreams, he could deal out the pleasant dreams just as swiftly the painful ones. What made all the dreams worse for Rhiannon was the knowledge that these were not really dreams, but visions of what was to come. She knew this, and it left her even more frightened. The crumbling city, where was that? She had never seen the place. She shook her head and slid off the bed, maybe some pacing would help.  
  
After sometime she decided that no, pacing would not help. It only wore a track in the carpet. There was just an uneasiness to her. Rhiannon sat on the bed, tracing the patterns woven into the ancient bedspread of Legolas. She had talked to Thranduil, wondering why all the memories in the room were from the childhood of Legolas and not of more recent times. Thranduil explained that his younger sons, those not heir to the throne, chose to live out among the population of Mirkwood, in their own version of flets or in small huts, especially on the outskirts, near the borders. The caves mostly provided protection for the citizens when an attack was eminent. Odd, how much that seemed like Helm's Deep. Would the fortress of Thranduil fall soon? Rhiannon's fingers continued to trace the small pattern of threading in the weave of the bedspread, now a motion of focus, as she released the binds on her mind and opened it up, reaching out, to see what Legolas was doing at the moment, see if he was in that crumbling city.The sights she saw through the eyes of Legolas made little sense. It was not the crumbling city, there were ships, and.the Dead. Through Legolas' eyes she scanned the deck they were on, her eyes rested on various people as Legolas, most likely sensing her in his mind, scanned the area, gifting her with his vision. They were headed towards land, as dawn came, she saw the fire, the smoke rising from the land, and, as the people on the deck started to hurry for their arrival, she was pushed out of Legolas mind with his soft whisper resonating in her head,  
  
"Rest and dream of nice and comforting things for the both of us, we will need it, today will be dark, I can sense it."  
  
***  
  
Legolas let a smile come to his face, feeling Rhiannon leave his mind. She needed rest, a peaceful slumber, he could sense her coming emotional weariness. Odd, why did she not just go to her brother, he could comfort her. And if not him, Lostladion, or one of his brothers would be sure to ease her mind. Legolas had no desire to look in on the events of his homeland. If all was not well, he would lose his concentration here, and if all was going fine, he would still feel unease for Mirkwood was always under some sort of cloud of danger.  
  
Legolas stared at the land, he eyes caught the fire rising from the city of Minas Tirith and the surrounding areas. They had seen the smoke for some time It was if they were too late, or perhaps and hopefully, just in time. He scanned what he could see, all looked to be devastation. The elf had been amazed by many sights he had seen in the past few days, he had felt childish excitement at almost viewing the sea, however, upon seeing the vast number of seagulls, trepidation creep into his soul, the words of the Lady of the Golden Wood ringing in his head. So much had been happening, so fast, too fast for most elves. However, he always had faith, he had grown up where the matters of Men meant little to him, he would not fear the darkness they now feared. He would enjoy the battles, revel in the friendships that had formed on the battle fields. Legolas turned his golden head towards the bow of the ship as Aragorn strode forward, the King in him revealed, as the banner of Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar, was unveiled, bearing the signs of both Gondor and Elendil, proclaiming to all that the lost king had returned, and that the forces of Mordor had not yet won; for the battle was far from over. Legolas observed the Riders of the Mark moving to fight those that came out of the South, another united force, unknown to him, came to fight those forces assailing from the East. Legolas and the battle-ready Gimli followed the company off of the boat. Aragorn, the true Grace in him revealed, carrying the so-called Flame of the West, the great Narsil re-forged by the elven-smiths; upon his brow sat the Star of Elendil. Halbarad, long-time friend, fellow Ranger of Aragorn carried the standard of Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir also followed, their own brilliance revealed, and with all the forces that came with them, they headed towards the battle-field.  
  
Many would die that night, the ground would seem soaked in red, choked by the blood spilt, suffocating under the weight of the memories of all that life. Theoden King already had passed by the time Aragorn and his company had arrived. Faramir, the only living son of Denethor, was in an unfit state, as were Merry the hobbit and Éowyn, now sister to the newly crowned Éomer King. Lord Denethor, ruler of Gondor, in madness from the temptation he fell into, seduced by the dark forces of Mordor, threw himself on a pyre, burning to death, his life being the price exacted for the so-called knowledge he gained from his palantír, twisted by the darkness. However, all things in life are at least two-fold. With darkness comes light, Merry, Faramir, and Éowyn still lived, and could possibly live, if one believed in the wisdom of olden tales, and in the Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, a great man and ally was found. They had won this battle, at the sacrifice of many great men, but they had won just the same.  
  
As night came, the soldiers set up their tents outside the city, Legolas watched, his curiosity peaked as Éomer, Aragorn, and Prince Imrahil walked towards the city-gates, their business unknown to him. Gimli turned toward Legolas, as he cleaned his axe,  
  
"And what, do you think, Master Elf, is occurring in our home lands?"  
  
Legolas smiled, "I wish I could know, but something tells me I do not want to see."  
  
***  
  
The tension Rhiannon had felt in the middle of the night has increased tenfold by the time she had awoken. She had had warm dreams, of the kind full of laughter and warmth and light. Darkness would occur to day, pain, death, she knew this. But now, standing out on the training fields, trying to concentrate on her physical combat lessons with Menepaurion, her mind was drawn elsewhere. The wind rushed through her ears, she could smell fire, hear the anguished cries that were coming from far off, Menepaurion stopped as he heard them also. Elves were running towards the hall of Thranduil, their sanctuary, as the call was sent out for all troops to rally.  
  
Rhiannon's mind was not on this battlefield of Mirkwood as Menepaurion tried desperately to usher both himself and the non-responsive ¾-elf towards the stone halls. Rhiannon's expression was vacant, and Menepaurion knew her eyes did not see nor hear any that was occurring around her. Typical, when he needs her to be responsive, her witty jests to calm his own troubled spirit, her mind is off in another land.  
  
Rhiannon saw black flame, a shadow personified, she spied one of the hobbits, the height giving the being away, a soldier, no, no man, a woman, she stood in battle garb, before the flying shadow. Devastation lied all around, fires in the air, this was the crumbling city, broken gates. A mocking voice, the shadow speaking, mockingly to the female, the soldier in disguise and the hobbit, taunting their threat of revenge, revenge on what? The shadow spoke, what was it?  
  
" 'Come not between the Nazgul and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and they shriveled mind be left naked to the lidless eyes.'"  
  
Nazgul, was this the King of them? Gandalf had spoken of him more than once in their travels.  
  
The female, Éowyn, yes, she was a shield-maiden and a soldier, unsheathed her sword " 'Do what you will, but I will hinder it, if I may,'"  
  
The shadow laughed at her, " 'Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man can hinder me!'"  
  
The arrogance one must pay for not believing predicted fates..  
  
"'But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.'"  
  
Such bravery and defiance, if only we all could have that.then again, Éowyn fought with that power of despair. The bravery granted when we believe we have nothing to live for.Rhiannon continued to watch the scene in her mind as Menepaurion dragged them over tree roots and overturned carts left in the pathways as their owners ran towards their haven. Rhiannon stopped the vision, forcing it away as she saw both Éowyn and Merry overcome by some darkness and as an elf in front of her was taken down by an enemy's arrow.  
  
She felt everything now, the despair of all around her, the anger in the forest air, the anger of the people. The arrows were coming faster and in larger numbers now. Where was the King and his own soldiers? She ducked her head as an arrow headed straight towards her, embedding itself in Menepaurion shoulder. The elf winced but made no sound as the blood started to stain his tunic and his blonde hair, near where her hand now rested. Rhiannon looked up at him in concern as they ran faster,  
  
"You are not hurt?"  
  
"Tis no more than a scratch. It will hurt more to try and force the blood stain out of this tunic."  
  
"You can not be serious."  
  
"I am, very, this is one of my favorite tunics. Oh, look there is the King, and your brother, I think it is best if we get out of the road now, they are coming at a fast pace."  
  
Rhiannon and Menepaurion sidestepped onto the path as the King, his eldest sons, Brhagdan and many others came galloping by as if the hounds of hell were on their heels. Her brother, focused, and in battle mode, gave no acknowledgement to her, but she sent a silent prayer.  
  
"Good luck, frater, Return to me.."  
  
"He will be fine.." the soft voice of Cerethena stated in her mind, "He is of our make, he will survive.."  
  
Rhiannon glanced up at the watchtowers that preceded the back entrance of the Elven Caves, there stood Laurea, her blonde hair hanging to her waist, playing on the wind, as she watched the horsemen ride out from the window. They locked eyes, the sapphire ones giving a measurement of Rhiannon's and Menepaurion's conditions, she hurried from the window, seeing that her brother was injured. Rhiannon belatedly realized that this was her vision fulfilled. Not as grim as she had thought, and yet the night was far from over.  
  
***  
  
King Thranduil and his forces, after an arduous battle, were able to once again push the forces of darkness away from his borders one more time. The fire that burned through the Wood destroyed much, but even so, healing rains came to put out the remnants of the fire and give water to that which needed to grow. Elves did fall in the battle, more than a few from Thranduil's own personal circle, but the King, his sons, and Brhagdan all came back alive, with some injury. As the Men fought the battle of the Pelennor Fields, and the elves of Mirkwood fought the forces of Dol Guldor, the elves of the Golden Wood fought the forced of Dol Guldor on the borders of the realm of Lothlorien for the second time in one month. While the dark forces were defeated in all of these battles, a palpable tension was still in the air, the worst was truly yet to come.  
  
***  
  
After a well-deserved night of rest for Brhagdan, it was decided that the two guests of Thranduil must make haste towards Gondor, following both Mithrandir orders and Rhiannon's inner-feelings, the two set out. With them went Menepaurion, to help as much as he could. It was not easy for the three to leave the Wood, for Brhagdan and Rhiannon, it had felt like a home. For Menepaurion it was a fear that something would happen to his sister, for he would not be there to watch them go. It was not easy for Thranduil to release the three, send them towards an uncertain future, towards possible death, towards the danger that lied out in the Wild at this moment. However, he knew their place was by his younger son Legolas and the prophesied king. Laurea did not take their leaving well, private and emotional conversations were held with both her brother and the male she now took interest in. Thranduil put a precious package to Legolas in Rhiannon's care, within it lied the blood-stained tunic of Lostladion and a braid cut from his head, to bring closure for the loss of the brother-of- his-heart. Thranduil watched the three leave, galloping out to that last realm of Men, until his sharp elven eyes could no longer detect their figures. A blessing for them laid on his lips,  
  
"Tira ten' rashwe, Astalderea. Quel marth" (Be careful, Valiant ones, good luck)  
  
A/N: Quotes come from Lord of the Rings, as usual. Once again thank you for all the helpful comments. Thanks to Jouri, Jenny, Dimi, all you all for kicking me in the ass to get this done. 


	24. To Know Thyself is The Hardest Task

Disclaimer: Orig. characters are mine everything else is Tolkien's.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four: To Know Thyself Is The Hardest Task  
  
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."  
  
To the world of mortals it is true when said, "The only thing constant in life is change." The elves and the immortals in general tend not to like change, and do all they have in their power to avoid it. Legolas knew there was no point in avoiding change. Next to Imladris, or maybe even more so, the Woodland Realm of his home was under constant change. When Men call your land Greenwood the Great I n one era and then Mirkwood in the other, change is obvious. More so than the other realms of immortals his homeland felt change, elves were killed much too often by spiders, orcs, and other creatures of the Dark Lord. And now, he was to believe that most, if not all, of those threats, the bearers of the change of his home, were gone? That was not possible. He knew he could not leave in a land where change was not at a constant pace. He had grown used to it, to the need of always being on alert, and now that his homeland was safe, he was just supposed to resort to the life of a Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm, now rumored to be called Eryn Lasgalen. Lasgalen.funny, green leaves, a testament to his own name. No, he could not live content is his home anymore unrest had risen in his once content heart. His mother had apparently been bound by her duties, burying herself in them to escape pain and confusion; his father had done a similar thing, now it was his turn. He never understood how his brothers always seemed fine with their lot in life, they could all be hunters and diplomats when need be. They never felt the need to see the world, explore other lands, and meet other races. They could never know what he had seen, could never feel what he felt. His father would know, he had watch many of his comrades fall, had watch his own father die. He would understand, and hopefully he would understand why Legolas had to leave, had to live elsewhere, had to be duty bound to King Elessar of Gondor and his Queen Undomiel.  
  
A phrase from his childhood floated through his mind as he studied the still sky, something his father had told him, years after his mother had left,  
  
"You will never see how truly like your mother you are."  
  
***  
  
They had been traveling for more than a few months, had seen the Glittering Caves, had studied the dark recesses of Fangorn, and now they headed towards the birthplace of Legolas Greenleaf. Legolas did not know what to expect; rumor was his father had talked with both Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel; they had come to quite an understanding. Lord Celeborn would be settling a new realm once the Lady passed over the sea. Legolas briefly wondered what had cause his father to agree to this, what favor was owed from the passed? Many thing crossed the ever-thinking mind of the little Greenleaf; how had the forest changed, how would his father react to Gimli, how many elves would follow him to Ithilien, was he going to see a dwarven realm soon, did one of his brothers finally decide to marry, where Mithrandir was, how the Hobbits were faring, what was life like in Imladris with the Evenstar gone and the Lord preparing to leave, and what was Rhiannon doing in the realm, and when we should come back to him.  
  
****  
  
For all the Rhiannon had told and warned Legolas about the battle that had occurred under the trees, nothing could compare the Wood Elf for the sight that greeted him as he entered his father's realm. Legolas could not hold back the dismayed cry that issued forth from his very soul. They had burnt the trees. The evil, decrepit beings had burnt the ancient trees that had stood guardians for thousands of years; they had burnt them to the ground. Legolas could tell their was an effort already started to heal the ground and replace the trees. But you can not replace thousands of years of life. You can not replace the silent guardians that comprised all of the wooded areas throughout all of Arda. How could they do this; they had to have souls somewhere in their beings; no one could be so truly and purely evil.  
  
The rough hand of the his friend, the dwarf, softly squeezing his shoulder was all the comfort he would receive. He could hear the tortured whispers of the burnt earth. Some things can truly never be forgotten nor healed. The earth would not forget and Legolas knew the elves that had fought in this battle, fought to save their home, would never forget. With a sigh of resolution, Legolas gave a short embrace to Gimli, gaining strength. He stood up and let his eyes stray towards his childhood home. The home that was a part of a past he felt incredibly disconnected from. His future did not lie in this land; it was the land of his past.  
  
****  
  
The return of Legolas to the Woodland Realm was, by Thranduil's somewhat ostentatious standards, very small and quiet. No large banquet was to be held in honor, no fake pageantry of pride in tales and adventures. It was not the time for such things and the look in the face of the elven prince told the tales that did not need to be spoken. He would not revel in the outcome of the war, of all the death and destruction he had seen. It would sully the memory, and no one had the right to do that. The appearance of the dwarf startled few, twelve had passed through their realm not all that long ago, with one of those hobbit creatures. They had caused much trouble, but that was then, and this was a new age. Plus, it was only one dwarf, how much trouble could he possibly be? Thranduil, pulling on the diplomatic skills he only used when truly need be, played the role of gracious host, extending all rights of hospitality to his son's guest. As Rhiannon had slowly clearly pointed out to him, old prejudices did need to come down. He warned all of his other sons not to tease their brother, who had always had an odd habit of bringing creatures of all sorts home with him.  
  
****  
  
Night had come and gone, dawn was making it's ascent, and Legolas was in his father's study as he had been for the past six hours. Silence had reigned in the room for the past three. Legolas patiently waiting for his father's answer. Would he or wouldn't he let willing elves settle in Ithilien? His father, contrary to popular belief did not make hasty decisions. He may come to a decisions quickly, but it is by no means hasty. Thranduil's mind was always at work. The silence was broken as his father's warm yet stern voice rung in the air,  
  
"You do realize if you take these elves to this Ithilien you will rule over them."  
  
"The King will rule over them, not I. And in Ithilien, Prince Faramir is the appointed ruler."  
  
"It does not matter who is appointed and who is the King. The elves will look to you for leadership; it is to you they will bring there problems and expect them to be solved. You are my son, a prince in your own right; they pass from my leadership to yours. The will only answer to that whom they feel allegiance to, and that is you, my little Greenleaf. I know you have always avoided the most pressing matters of diplomats and politics, only learning the most base of reasons and lessons. Now, however, you ask me to entrust to you, people I have always offered home, protection and safety to. You say this participants must be willing, and I agree. However, surely you know, the ones that will follow you are the youth and the warriors of our realm. Would you take them from us?"  
  
"Father, I know there are worries that love this realm and lay down their lives for you and it. Those that follow shall be those that have the same desire I have always had; the desire to be out among the world. The desires to live outside of the boundaries of our Wood, to see all that Arda has that they have missed. To glimpse the true world of Men before they sail West and leave. I am aware my skill is with the bow and not the sharp tongue of the diplomat. But father I have a keen mind, and many leaders have not had that. You yourself have said I have an unending amount of hope and loyalty for those I chose to protect, I chose to serve. You must realize that is why Elrond chose me for this quest. I have no future here. You and I both know this. This study, this cavern, those felts and tress, that river, those gates, all are part of the past of my life. I can no longer look to that past; I must look towards my future. I already feel the Call, and yet I stay here until my duty has ended, and part of that duty is bringing these elves that wish to go into the land of the King. Are you willing to let me take them or not?"  
  
Thranduil pierced his son with a look that used to make him break into shivers. This version of his son did not even flinch. Ice seemed to replace laughter in his eyes. Fire ran through his veins. Thranduil realized he was clearing seeing the aspects of Rhiannon that now lived inside Legolas. He briefly wondered what shone in her eyes, in her soul. He had a plan though. Legolas needed to establish a few things in this Ithilien before he would consent to let all willing elves go.  
  
"You make many valid points my son; it is obvious you are passionate about this cause. However, I have terms."  
  
"I would expect no less from you."  
  
"Such insolence, I suppose we can thank the lovely Rhiannon for that."  
  
His son was silent, and so he continued.  
  
"I will let you take all the elves willing to go in four years."  
  
He held up a hand as his son started to protest.  
  
"You must first build enough quarters to house all these elves and any possible guests that will come by. You must set up stables and training grounds, along with more governmental aspects of life. You should have a board of advisors, just in case. Make sure they possess keen minds, just hearts, and loyalty towards you. Further more, before you take the elves with you, I want you to go to Rivendell gather Rhiannon and whoever wishes to travel with her and either leave her here or take her to Ithilien with you. She may even wish to go to Lord Celeborn's realm, but it will probably be extremely difficult and emotional draining for her to be under the rule of Elladan, whom I assume will take his father's place once he leaves, and that shall be soon. As over the past as she may seem we all know you never truly forget. Once all these requests of mine are fulfilled, and any small ones I will most likely have in the future, I shall consent to your plans for taking elves of my home to yours. Agreed?"  
  
Legolas thought quickly, realizing it was an extremely fair deal, and his father's way of telling him what needed to be done without insulting his son.  
  
He nodded, "Agreed, my liege."  
  
A warm smile came to Thranduil face as he softly rested a hand on top of his son's head,  
  
"You truly are like your mother."  
  
A wistful look invaded the King's eyes and he bestowed a soft kiss on the forehead of his child.  
  
He turned silently and left, having other manners to attend to before all the counselors awoke.  
  
He left a stunned son standing in his study speechless.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
To an outsider, the female at the desk would appear to be a young lady in the prime of her life. They would wonder at her wistful look as her gaze lifted from the letter she wrote to stare out into the horizon. They would think she was kin to the Lord of the sanctuary, not his daughter of course; she was now the Queen of Gondor, but perhaps a cousin, a niece, a distant relative of a long line. Rhiannon knew that there were still those that passed through the now fading sanctuary of Imladris, as it prepared for its Lord, the Lord that had been with it since the city's very foundations, prepared for his departure to Aman. She knew that they wondered who she was, as she wrote so fervently on the rapidly piling pieces of parchment. They would not be part of a book telling of the end of the Third Age and the beginning of the Fourth. No, the rapidly increasing mountains of papers were parts of a very detailed letter. Only a strong and stubborn messenger bird would be able to carry and deliver this letter all the way to Cerethena in Sinope. There was always hope. She stared down at her letter, to proof-read her last page:  
  
"It sometimes feels as if we live our lives in retrospect, reacting when it occurs in the present, reflecting in the future on the past. A year later and I am back where I began this long, strange journey of mine through Middle Earth. No, Cerethena, I have not retuned to the nymphs, your son forbade me of going there. Some foolishness about "nymphly ways" as he calls them. I am sure he his enjoying Laurea's nymphly ways very greatly at the moment. You may have an accidental grand child in the coming years. I believe my dear brother has spent far too much out in the sun.  
  
I know you watched over us, as did Vanelaure ; I can always feel it whenever she is near. I still feel the need to inform you, from my point of view, all which occurred in the past few months. However, I digress. I have returned to Imladris, to dwell in Lord Elrond's household until he leaves for Aman, the equivalent to heaven, Nirvana, Elysian Fields, only for those that do not die. I know Elrond has asked me to stay here since he can not have his own daughter. She has chosen a mortal life. I do not know if you remember Arwen, but she has chosen the path of her heart. She has married Aragorn, now King Elessar, and they are delighted to finally be wed."  
  
Rhiannon laid down her stylus. She did not know how much longer she could keep up the pretense of false cheerfulness and detachment. For she did not feel so in this slowly fading land. A good majority of the elven population of this realm would be traveling with Elrond over the Sea. His twin sons would not go, while choosing to be immortal; they felt they owed it to their sister to stay until she passed from this world. Apparently they had already been granted this time, even though by condition, they were to be mortal if they did not pass over with their father, conditions changed when applied to the difficult situation. Or, at least everyone at Imladris hoped so.  
  
Glorfindel tapped a finger on the bowed dark head. Rhiannon glanced up, surprise registering on her face. She had not been expecting this elf.  
  
"And where, dear one, is the little golden elf you are how shall we say..strongly connected to?"  
  
"Off traipsing caves and dank, dark forests with a very ornery dwarf."  
  
The graceful golden head tilted, "And you choose not to join them in their adventures?"  
  
"It was not my adventure to join in on. They need this. And I had other places to be."  
  
"One would presume you would go to Mirkwood."  
  
"I needed a break from a certain Mirkwood elf. And it is Eryn Lasgalen now, Glorfindel."  
  
"Ah..Old habits."  
  
"Anyway, Thranduil was very understanding about me not staying in his realm."  
  
"The old elf wants grandchildren. You are his only hope, he will not anger you."  
  
Rhiannon chose to ignore that last comment.  
  
"You, my dear Glorfindel, should not call anyone old."  
  
"While it is true that combining my many years of both my lives together, I would appear to be an ancient elf, I promise you, my dear one, that I truly remain a child at heart."  
  
"Of that, I have never had any doubt."  
  
Glorfindel gave Rhiannon quite an appraising look, as a farmer would over his prized cow, "Your wordplay has greatly improved since we last met; I see you have learned well from my lessons."  
  
"I assure you, my golden one, that your lessons had nothing to do with my improved word play, but more with my gain in tolerance of fastidious elves."  
  
A wide grin spread on the blonde's face, "Is the Prince really that bad?"  
  
"No, Menepaurion is. He was the other elf in our group at the wedding."  
  
"The one Brhagdan pushed into the fountain?"  
  
"That very one."  
  
"What was the reason behind that push, may I ask."  
  
"It was a trip more than a push. Mostly something about Brhagdan not being worthy of his younger sister and Brhagdan giving off some rancid smell. I truly was not paying attenuation."  
  
The blue eyes of the Elda twinkled, "Or so you say."  
  
She nodded, "Or so I say."  
  
Her gazed then turned back to the horizon, towards the east.  
  
"You miss him." Glorfindel's voice was soft.  
  
"I miss the dwarf more."  
  
Glorfindel shook his head, "You need not use that defense mechanism with me. I have known you since the first you ever set foot in this realm. I trained your uncle as a guard, watched your mother grow. You can talk to me."  
  
Rhiannon turned her gaze, "Where do you wish for me to start? These last few weeks have been spent in nothing but reflection. I do not know who I am anymore, Glorfindel."  
  
"Does this have something to do with the argument with Legolas? Aragorn told me you had a long and quite loud argument the first time you met again." Rhiannon thought, "It was neither long nor loud. However, it does have something to do with that.."  
  
***  
  
The White City of Gondor, 3 May 3019 of the Third Age  
  
Rhiannon and Legolas had proceeded to silently study each other for the past hour. Reacquainting themselves with the people they once knew. Both were suddenly wishing they were else where.  
  
"I feel as if I stand in front of a stranger."  
  
"Have we ever been truly more than strangers, Rhiannon?"  
  
She willed the hurt to not show in her face, understanding that no one's hope and good will could last forever. However, anger and acidic tones seemed foreign in the visage of the Greenleaf.  
  
"I have become softer, you have become harder."  
  
"I am just tired. 'Tis nothing, it shall pass soon."  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and with a flourish walked across the room and poured himself a glass of water. His eyes briefly strayed to the bundle of war-stained clothing and single-golden plait, then quickly darted to the window, studying the lower levels of the city. The tents of soldiers still surrounded the gates, the mounds of the Dead, the gulls could all be seen in the distance. All around him there was an air of mortality, of death. He willed his gaze back into the room resting on the female that timidly sat in a chair. Timidity did not belong in Rhiannon; she was brash and sarcastic, not timid. However, now she seemed uncertain..Valar, was nothing the same?  
  
"What has startled one as blunt as you into silence? I feel the need to thank them for turning you into a proper elven female."  
  
Anger weighed on Rhiannon's brow, a dangerous darkness settled into her eyes. A warning from his childhood came into his mind, 'Do not tempt the tiger caged for it will bear its claws.' A sharp intake of breath alerted him to the verbal onslaught that was about to occur.  
  
"I do not know what has caused your mild sarcasm to augment into blatant cynicism and turned you into a wondrous graduate of the school of assholiean thought; you forget yourself elf. I am your other, and clearly better, half. I know all of your weakness, everything that can bring your defensives haughtiness to its knees along with the prideful being that my once compassionate elf has turned into. I can unlock memories buried deep in side of you, which if forcibly resurfaced, could beak your mind. I could make the rest of your existence here on this land more horrible than any fate Sauron could have ever devised. Do not tempt my hatred nor my anger elf. Do not dare give me the sharp side of your tongue. I did not force your hand on this quest; I did not deal the final blows to Boromir, Theoden, Lostladion and all the others. I am not the reason the Sea Call has awoken in your heart nor the reason your mother left you when she had duties to perform. And I am certainly not the reason for why you feel pain and despair now."  
  
Rhiannon stilled her anger as she saw the tears slowly sliding down Legolas' face. She stood by him, gathering his lithe frame into her arms.  
  
"You have envy, pride, anger, fear, hesitation, sorrow, all coursing through you right now. You must let it all go, mellon-nin. Let it go."  
  
A poor excuse for a laugh, more a snuffle, sounded on Rhiannon's now wet shoulder where Legolas' head lay.  
  
"You learn Elvish just in time for the majority of the elven races to leave these lands."  
  
"I have always been a patron of the art of irony."  
  
Legolas squeezed his eyes shut, "I am weak."  
  
"You are not!" Rhiannon admonished, tapping his head to punctuate her words, "You are just truly waking up after the nightmare you have just lived."  
  
Silence of a comforting sort followed for some time. Later, Legolas straightened up and rested his forehead against Rhiannon's. He brought a hand to her face, tracing the features with his fingertips.  
  
"I know you well and yet not at all."  
  
"And there is the beauty and the enduring quality of our relationship."  
  
"I am sorry I lashed out at you."  
  
"I am sorry I did the same to you."  
  
*****  
  
"You are calling into question your own identity because of what he said to you?"  
  
"No, I have felt this change in me for some time now. It was a gradual thing."  
  
"I can not believe Legolas would greet you like that, after so long a time a part. You must have just arrived to the city."  
  
She shook her head, "No, no. We had been there. We left a day or so after Mirkwood had been attacked. We arrived after the Ring has been destroyed but before Aragorn and his army had returned."  
  
"The guards just let a group of unknowns into their city?"  
  
"I would not exactly say we were let in."  
  
"Did you do something illegal?"  
  
Rhiannon burst out laughing at the blonde's irritated expression. She stifled her giggles,  
  
"It is funny you should say that."  
  
**********  
  
Three sets of eyes assessed the fallen walls of the city of Minas- Tirith. The city looked ravaged, as if it had been to the brink and back, and yet the hope of the people of the city came off in waves. Their King had returned. And by the evidence of the violent shake of the earth, and the world still in existence the next day; the One Ring had been destroyed. Evil was being held at bay for quite sometime. Those that knew of the arrangement between Aragorn and Elrond knew that a grand wedding was soon to be had. And yet the three felt that they were late. They had not reached the city, no matter how brisk their pace was, until after the ring had been destroyed. They had not seen all in their finest hours. The elf of Mirkwood and the two siblings of an Otherworld felt as if they had failed.  
  
One dark head turned to the other,  
  
"Why would Thranduil send us here now, if all the fighting is over?"  
  
The light-haired one of the three answered.  
  
"It is no fault of my Lord. He could not have now this War would be over by now."  
  
The other dark-haired one, silent as she appraised the city,  
  
"Perhaps he did not send us here to tend with the physical battles that have been fought."  
  
Light green eyes stared disbelieving at the female,  
  
"Rhiannon, I think you have taken one too many of Menepaurion's blows to the head. Anyone with an ounce of feeling can sense the hope coming off these people."  
  
Annoyed dark-green eyes, almost icy now, matched the lighter pair.  
  
"Surely, my brother, you know by now that within great victory comes great sacrifice. Yes these people have hope; but it is hope based off one man who is known for his self doubt. Surely you can feel their anxiety!?! They have hope but they also have fear; you can not go through what these have and not experience night terrors for years to come. Those that set off to destroy that foul ring are not the same as those that left Elrond's home. All have changed and a deep gravity lies on their brows. Then of course, there are the elves; it is their time to go. Their magic, the natural spiritual aura that comes from their presence is also finally leaving. The hope is great, but the foreboding sense of the unknown and the untried is even greater. That my brother is most likely why we were sent here. That and Lord Elrond would have both of our necks if we did not attend the wedding of his precious daughter. And furthermore, the boundaries to our home realm lie in the East, and those are all of the many reasons why we have been sent here."  
  
Brhagdan, taking on the familiar action if his sister rolled his eyes,  
  
"Father will be quite displeased at the long-windiness that has come out of you."  
  
"Hmm, I think he will appreciate it much better than the hot air that comes out of you."  
  
Doubly amused and annoyed blue eyes glanced between the two,  
  
"Are you both quite finished? While are assure you this is quite entertaining for me, I do not believe those guards that have been watching us for the past few moments, are pleased at our delay for entering the city. Therefore, I believe we should continue. I am quite eager to see Legolas and Aragorn. It has been a very long time since I have seen both."  
  
Brhagdan and Rhiannon begrudgingly agreed with Menepaurion's assertion and continued their travel into the city.  
  
Brhagdan lead his sister and the accompanying elf through the city of Minas Tirith. He truly had not expected to be returning so soon, though he had never thought to leave the city in the first place. He knew the hidden passages that could be taken in times like these, when 3 people and 3 horses needed to slip into a city relatively unnoticed by the mass populace. He feared the elf would complain about the possible dirt that would surely embed itself in his tunic, but there was nothing they could do, the tunnels would be the best way to enter, especially considering the fact that there was a whole sea of tents before the fallen city gates. Tents full of tired soldiers, nonetheless.  
  
Brhagdan turned his head back towards his companions to see his sister fixing him with a dark stare,  
  
"You are making us do something illegal, aren't you?"  
  
"It is not necessary illegal. We are just sneaking in to avoid all the squatters."  
  
His sister coughed a phrase into her hand, and a very expletive one at that.  
  
Brhagdan chose to ignore her, he stared about the city. Understandably the city had a lot less activity, it had just seen war, but one would expect that there would be celebrations to be had. Where was everyone?  
  
"You're lost aren't you?" His sister accused.  
  
"I am not. I have just lost my bearings for a moment."  
  
"So, you are lost."  
  
"I am not lost.we are not doing this. We are no longer children, at least I am not, and therefore I refuse to participate in such a childish activity as engaging me in a frivolous fight."  
  
"I am impressed Brhagdan, you used a big word."  
  
"Remind me to push you into a bush the next time someone we know walks by."  
  
"I do not understand your need for such secretiveness. The guards have already seen us."  
  
"Well, excuse me, dear sister who suddenly has a wealth of knowledge dealing with diplomatic tendencies, I feel that we have no need to make a grand entrance into a city that you are so sure of is still filled with fear."  
  
"I also agree no grand entrance should be made, all I am saying is that the longer you dawdle here, the more agitated those guards get, so much so, that they will come to the point where they will ride out here, alerting the city, and all those lying in these tents, of our arrival. Therefore, hurriedly pick what you see as the lesser of two evils and lets be done with it."  
  
Brhagdan nodded, conceding this point to his sister. "We will ride towards that entrance in the walls? Can you see it, it is quite hidden."  
  
Menepaurion snorted, "Not to elven eyes, there is an obvious different working of the stone."  
  
"And that is why this is a city of men and not elves. Do well to remember that the King has returned, and you are now under his reign. I would not insult his people's craftsmanship."  
  
"If you truly expect me to fear Aragorn son of Arathorn, whom I remember running around in messy tunics with dirty knees, then you must be joking."  
  
"He is not who he once was. You might do right to if not fear him, heed him."  
  
***  
  
"I never knew your brother was so adept with the skills of the Rangers."  
  
"You travel with them for a long while and dwell in a city of Men for a few years, you acquire many skills."  
  
"Why did he guards not stop you, if they watched you from their outposts?"  
  
"I believe they saw the elf and figured we were just premature well- wishers. I'll never know. But I am grateful they did not."  
  
"May I ask what you did until the soldiers returned?"  
  
"Of course you may. We spent our time in the Houses of Healing. Brhagdan talked with Faramir for many hours; Menepaurion with the Lady Eowyn. I spent most of my time just wondering around the city and observing their people's ways. It was quite educational. The city was so very tense; a calm did not settle until Aragorn, I should say Elessar, returned. The people were reassured once their King officially entered the city. It was a relative calm until all of the escorts started to arrive for the wedding."  
  
"Relative?" The skepticism in the elf's voice was tangible.  
  
"The King was nervous of course. He was about to be a married man for the rest of his life. You of course, would know nothing about that."  
  
"I do admit that I run from the yoke."  
  
"Yoke? Are you an ox, my dear Glorfindel?"  
  
"Ox, nay. Yet you have called me a pig, my dear Rhiannon."  
  
"Oh no, Golden Tress, I called you an ass."  
  
*******  
  
A/N: Yes, I have been gone a loooong time. Mainly writer's block, and now that college is starting again I can apparently write. This was the most recent of about ten versions of this chapter and is the one I am most happy with. The next few chapters will kind of have a few of those flashbacks to what happened in between the end of the War of the Ring and when the Fellowship parted for the final time. A few things I need to address about the previous chapters and such.  
  
a) Due to my own very stupid human error, Rhiannon was spelled wrong in previous chapters. I put in the wrong word in spellchecker and yeah.the corrected versions can be found here:  
  
b) I know I gave many of the elves of Mirkwood Quenya names. There are reasons for this I swear. Basically, it is a lot easier to find Quenya names you know the meaning of then it is to find Sindarian equivalents. I will in no way ever claim to be a scholar of elvish or of Middle Earth. This is fanfiction for a reason.  
  
and c) to make it a true "few": I know the formats have been messed up on fanfic.net, there has been more than a few issues so if your eyes are truly hurting from reading it here, you can also go to the above web address.  
  
Ok, that's all for now. Tell me what you like, what you hate, what needs to fixed etc. 


	25. The Past Discovers the Future

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Past Discovers the Future  
  
Experience teaches slowly and at the cost of mistakes. -James A. Froude  
  
Eryn Lasgalen, afternoon  
  
The Woodland Realm, formerly Greenwood the Great and also once called Mirkwood, now known as Eryn Lasgalen, was known for many things. Their libraries were not one of the numerous things the realm was known for. Some of the more arrogant elves that, until recent times had resided in Lothlorien, Imladris, and the Grey Havens, believed that the rustic Wood Elves did not even know what a library was. However, the libraries in King Thranduil's palace were priceless to the royal family. They contained things more personal and important than books of lore that held tales all knew by memory from childhood. The library contained at least one journal from every member of the royal family. Personal histories of the realm set down by the kings; volumes that were priceless. Thranduil had always sworn history is best told from many points of view, and therefore had insisted that all of his sons detail their years since they had hit their majorities in journals that were to travel with them for their whole lives. It was a seemingly tedious task, the sons never understanding why the pointless actions of pointless years needed to be laid down in parchment and bound into leather confines; but Thranduil insisted it informing his sons that he still kept detailed accounts of his own life.  
  
Legolas had enjoyed writing accounts of his years spent in the forest, the accounts of the few itineraries he had undertaken in his life, yet he did not have words for the past year of his existence. It was still too fresh, so many emotions whirling around inside of him at once. He just wanted..he did not know what he wanted.  
  
Silence possibly.  
  
Yes, silence. The memories to stop, and the sudden glimpses into the peaceful life Rhiannon was having in Imladris to cease. He sat for a moment thinking. She had said, when they had met, she needed Mithrandir's guidance on darkness in her own land. Yet she and Brhagdan did not seem in any hurry to get home. In fact, if he was to believe rumor, Brhagdan was residing in his father's halls this very moment.  
  
Were they speaking of a more metaphorical darkness, or one of the future? Rhiannon certainly held a bit a foresight. Brhagdan may also. No, they had not seemed in any hurry at all. Had she had a vision about Arda and just assumed it was her own land? None of this made sense. None at all.  
  
He pushed his chair back from the table he was sitting at and walked around the library. It was one of the few rooms situated in the above ground parts of the rock. As a child it had been an optimum hiding space when escaping from his tutors. None every thought to look for him in the dusty library, unless he was being punished. He truly did not start to misbehave until his mother left, and then he became a constant problem. That was until his father, realizing his son's tutors were beyond their breaking points, had sent his little Greenleaf out on a hunting part with some of the more ruffian of guards. Here he would not be treated as a prince but as the son of a woodsman. It was his father's way of teaching his son humility, that out in the darkness and on the battlefield, all are of equal birth; that a fancy title will not save you, that in fact being of a royal bloodline was imore/i of an incentive to get one killed or taken hostage. His father had an odd way of teaching, but his lessons only needed to be taught once. And all his sons had turned out well, despite what other's said. A rueful smile came to Legolas' face, Thranduil never listened to what others had to say, swearing that all that mattered was how your family and those whom you protected saw you. Their opinions meant the most. Legolas knew he never truly understood his father until now, and still had yet to understand all that comprised the character of the King of Mirkwood, but he knew enough to never begrudge his father anything now.  
  
His mother..he knew that he should not hold on to a childish grudge with her, understanding now the true impact of the battle of duty and desire. His gaze traveled the bookcases that contained the diaries of his family. One was slightly jutted out from the others; it's binding capturing the light that filtered in through the windows. He reached up to pull the volume down, surprised at its heavy weight. The binding he had glanced was a tightly bound cloth, obviously protecting the cover of the volume he held in his hands. The mischievous part of him, still very rampant in his soul, even more magnified by his spirit being combined with Rhiannon, awoke and rose to the surface. As one who knows they are doing something wrong, he glanced around the room, reassuring himself that no one was there to watch. He carefully peeled the silver cloth back, its luster not dulled by age. His breath came out in a surprised gasp as he saw the cover of the volume. It was an etching on a plate of mithril, exquisite in its design, no wonder it felt so heavy. Small semi-precious stones were inlaid in the design of what appeared to be the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. For his father's love of jewels, he would guess it to be one of his journals, but Thranduil favored thick leather-bound volumes that could hold as many entries as possible. The first two pages were all seemingly full of notes and inscriptions, in languages he did not truly understand. However, one was Quenya, rumored to be his mother native-tongue and the reason his father had named most of his children in that language, with the very glaring exception of him. He had questioned his father on this and was simply told, "You came into this world calm, ready to except your life as it was, all your siblings came kicking and screaming into this world, you were different, and so shall you remain."  
  
So shall you remain..yes, he had held to that path. He opened the pages, he sense assailed with the smell of slightly musty parchment and oddly, still fresh ink. He scanned the two title pages again, which repeated the same paragraph over and over again in the many languages he did not recognize except for the last three: Quenya, Sindarin, and Westron. His eyes widened at the name inscribed in every paragraph: Vanelaure. His mother.  
  
*********  
  
Imladris, dusk  
  
She walked in the moonlight, weaving in and out of the gardens' paths, paying no heed to others that walked that night, and yet they all looked after her. There was something in her presence all could sense, as if she was drowning in memories. A hooded cape covered her, a slight chill in Imladris' air with the power of Vilya now destroyed. The hood obscured her face, the starlight only occasionally flashing off her eyes. She was on this earth, and yet her mind was walking in a whole other world. He watched from his balcony studying her, making sure no one harmed her.  
  
Elladan had long ago come to terms with the fact that he was not the marrying type and was not attracted to Rhiannon. What for her had been true affection, for him had been a farce to please his father. He felt a brotherly feeling towards her, felt connected with another that seemed so out of place in the world of the elves. She had understood what it was like to grow up with the sneering insults of not having a full pedigree. And yet he had known since he met her that he was not destined to be with her, that they would be a star-crossed match, that she had more in her future. He regretted having ended their engagement the way he had, the ramifications of such an act still being felt in her home, and yet he knew all would work out. Soon, they would stop hunting her. Her father sought a match for his daughter with a warrior for a reason: she would always have protection, protection even more so than that a brother can give. She was not made to be the wife of a warrior, she did not dwell in that genre of pain.  
  
No, Rhiannon was a survivor of the darker side of pain, the emotional side, the one that left you with a darkness on your very soul. You could not tell when you met her now. She covered her pain well, it was a guarantee even Legolas did not know the darkest secrets that laid in her past. Rhiannon was here, in this realm for one reason and one reason alone, she was hunted. The prey of those that crave power. They wanted to trap her, torture her, and convert her power into something they could use. Like the Dark Lords had done with those elves that had been tortured and turned into orcs. However, so long as Rhiannon remained what she was, and held on to that last human part of herself, she was not in total danger. Truly bonding with Legolas, truly forsaking her own people, would put her in the most danger; would change her.  
  
And yet, was that not her fate? Was she not like Estel? So long a fight of trying to escape their destiny that in the end had to be faced anyway. There was no need for her to drown in these memories, she needed to pull away from them before she was in full despair.  
  
*******  
  
She had not been in Imladris for very long and already she was always finding herself looking elsewhere. Anyone that looked at her would know that her heart was not in the River Valley, but then again, none were these days. She jumped as a voice spoke behind her,  
  
"You are in your own world, little one. Come out of it and talk to me."  
  
Her eyes were widened, still stunned, that someone had dared to disturb her thoughts.  
  
"What is it you wish to speak of, Elladan? I admit, we have not said much to each other in the past few years."  
  
"Only because we could not find the words to speak to each other, but now everything is in its perspective and we have no need to wander in the world of uncertainty. Your mind must turn to other things."  
  
"Other things, what things?"  
  
"Tell me..tell me of your adventures."  
  
"Bilbo and Glorfindel can repeat such tales to you."  
  
He smiled that winning smile of his, it used to make her melt, now it made her think of another, "You are being difficult."  
  
She narrowed her eyes, "It's hard not to be difficult around you, I have this predetermined anger towards you."  
  
"Then try to let go of your grudge. Now, tell me.I remember how Elrohir was before he wed, that was quite a morning, tell me how was Estel?"  
  
"You were there -"  
  
Elladan let out a very exasperated breath, "For Eru's sake Rhiannon, can you be any more literal? How was he between the time we left for Gondor and the time Arwen arrived?"  
  
Rhiannon straightened her shoulders,  
  
"He was as to be expected, willing and able but very, very nervous."  
  
*********  
  
Minas Tirith, 25th of May  
  
Aragorn had not been in the sweetest of temperaments these past few days, understandably so as his soon-to-be Queen was on her way with a none-too- happy father. That, however, was not the deepest problem in Aragorn's mind.  
  
Rhiannon came upon him, sitting in a hidden alcove on the highest level of the city,  
  
"Why has the newly crowned King chosen to hide himself already? You do not even have advisors to nag you about pointless matters yet?"  
  
Not even a twitch of the lips.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
"I wonder..if this is what I truly am. Am I only King by birthright, by prophecy, but not by power? How am I to lead all these people?"  
  
"You led the Rangers."  
  
"The Rangers are my people."  
  
"You led an army."  
  
"That would have been completely unsuccessful if not for Gandalf and Frodo."  
  
"Gollum, actually, but Frodo did get the Ring into Mount Doom."  
  
"Can you just gloss over the details for once in your existence? I need the sage witch that I know you are. I do not feel myself. I feel lost."  
  
Rhiannon slowly sat down next to Aragorn, disgust at the fact it now mattered to her to keep her dress clean,  
  
"You have more sense than to know you could not come out of this unchanged. The prophecy says.."  
  
"You were the one that told me not to put my full faith in prophecy, that it was a tricky business, that it was not fool-proof. You said I could control my own fate."  
  
Rhiannon grasped Aragorn's weather and weary-beaten face in her hands,  
  
"And you have, my friend, you have. You made the decisions that have brought you to this fate. Your original plan was to go along with the Ring- bearer until your own destination was reached, to travel with Boromir of Gondor. And when that path changed, you still chose to go after two small hobbits, with the unlikely companionship of an elf and a dwarf. You choose to align yourself with mortal men, you helped the kingdom of Rohan greatly in their fight. You called out to the Dead to have them fulfill their vows. You performed actions that ensured Sauron's eye would be fixed on you, so that Frodo and the ever-faithful Samwise Gamgee could slip into Mordor, to Mount Doom with very little to trace them. You have taken what is rightfully yours; your title. You have taken back your true heritage. My dear Ranger, you are now a King. And here you sit, on dirty steps, awaiting an escort from Rivendell that will not come for at least another two months. You are quite a site to see. And to these people, the lands of Men, you are their savior, their answer to prayers they must have felt have fallen on deaf ears. Why do you doubt yourself so?"  
  
"Perhaps it is human nature."  
  
"Estel, Elessar, when have you ever been truly human? You are the most elvish man I know. But yes, it is natural to doubt one's self."  
  
Rhiannon was silent for a moment and then placed a soft hand on Aragorn's shoulder, "I am so very proud of you. We all are. You are very special, very gifted Estel. Never doubt that." She stood up and dusted off her skirts. Aragorn inclined his head,  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
Rhiannon took in a deep breath of the city air, the scent of ash forever lingering in it,  
  
"I must go deliver some upsetting news to one I never wish to hurt, and yet know I will in the end of it all."  
  
"You have seen something?"  
  
"He goes where I can not follow. I can not allow myself."  
  
"Mithrandir told me, and Legolas, that through some sort of ritual you can become a full elf. You are practically one as it is."  
  
"I shall never do that. I value my humanity too much."  
  
Aragorn seemed to consider this for some time.  
  
"Will you die, Rhiannon? Are you like me, gifted with a longer life-span?"  
  
"Why these questions?"  
  
"I am starting to realize I have never truly known you. You hide so much."  
  
"No one truly knows me. I do not even know myself. And to answer your question, no, I am not human in the way you think. My father's father is of an immortal race. Similar to Brhagdan's mother but not quite so. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see an elf about an.elf."  
  
***************  
  
Imladris  
  
"Gandalf told Legolas..did you speak of it?"  
  
"Of course not, I have no need to give him false hope, you know my path does not lie in the West."  
  
"It does not as of now. The Sun rises in the East, but all sets in the West."  
  
"The Loremaster's son makes himself known."  
  
"I do not understand how it is possible."  
  
"It is just a plea to the Valar through Mithrandir after Legolas and I would be married in front of him in an elvish ceremony."  
  
"But, you would not have one for it would not be seen as valid in your eyes."  
  
"You are correct."  
  
"Is nothing with you simple?"  
  
"Truly? No. It is even more complicated the further you get into my history."  
  
"I know that those of a darker nature hunt you in your homeland."  
  
"I suspected you to know when our betrothal was going through, seeing as how that was the grounds for it."  
  
"Are you still pursued?"  
  
"Even more so. In the future they will burn my kind at the stake. They will hang us, they will drown us, they will pierce us with sword and spear."  
  
"This is the world you wish to save?"  
  
"This is the world you have just helped to save. All goodness fades into darkness for some time to rise again and then to fade."  
  
"How much longer?"  
  
"You will not be here, it will not be for a very long time. I will still reside near Arda, as will my brother and your Grandfather."  
  
"Why.."  
  
"Ancient vows. The people of the Woodland Realm will also still be, also still bound by duty. Imladris however, will be a long-forgotten realm where fact has faded into legend. Children will hear tales about Elrond the Wise and his tragic life. They will hear of his steadfast sons and his beautiful daughter, of his resident hobbit and re-born Balrog slayer."  
  
"I now feel all warm and fuzzy inside."  
  
"I know a few chamber maids that will offer to help you with that, a few butlers also."  
  
"Such a sharp tongue. I will pass on the maids.for now.the butlers maybe."  
  
"Glutton."  
  
"Insolent witch."  
  
"I've missed you."  
  
"I have also missed you. We both were far too prideful and stupid for far too long."  
  
"Journey with me when Legolas comes to collect me."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I have a certain elf I wish for you to meet, you did not get the chance to meet him when we were all in Minas Tirith."  
  
*****  
  
Proper format of the chapters (spacing, italics, all that) can be found at the website on my author page since fanfic.net cuts it out of the chapters. Also, please, please review. I would sincerely like to know how people feel about the last few chapters, and I greatly appreciate it. 


	26. Tomorrow’s Not Too Late”

Chapter Twenty-Six: "Tomorrow's Not Too Late"  
  
"Inspiration of my heart search for light out of the dark.  
  
All the pictures in my heart lie awake there in my fog.  
  
This oasis in my arms I approach it with disarm."  
  
Elrond was gone now, Galadriel had left, Gandalf's task was done, Bilbo's seat in the Hall of Fire would no longer be occupied and even dear Glorfindel had sailed into the West. The great power that once was immense in the western parts of the world had faded into its winter; a winter that was to last for a long time, but a winter nonetheless. It had been difficult for Rhiannon to say her final goodbyes to all those she cared deeply about. Galadriel, who had terrified her but, also put her at ease. Gandalf, who always had a sage word and a comforting shoulder to lean on. Bilbo, who always had a lovely story to tell besides a warm fireside when one, was trying to get their mind off other things. Glorfindel, the only full-blooded elf she could truly say she loved with all her soul, whose musical laughter and magical light would be a great loss to Arda. Elrond, the one that had seen her through the darker times in her life, had arranged for her stay with the nymphs, had been a surrogate father to her..had been the one she needed to turn to when she did not know where else to look. Now, all these roles would have to be filled by one person alone, and he was nowhere to be seen. Legolas had sent a carrier bird with a message stating he would be in Imladris in the coming week. That was a fortnight ago. Doubt had assailed her this past year, barely a word from him, not a vision of any kind. Menepaurion had come to stay with her, swearing that another moment in the presence of her brother and his sister would turn him into the next Dark Lord. He however had found his peace, and a good sense of humor, in her former betrothed. How lovely, typical, and fitting. She felt out of place in Imladris now. Elladan and Elrohir were now the Lords, and though the rift between her and the eldest son had come to an understanding, she was not comfortable here. She truly wished for the comfort of Thranduil's Halls; the lone place that had not lost its elven magic, at least in her own opinion. She had not found rest at all that night and had spent the past few hours sitting on the balcony off of to her room, huddled up in a blanket, watching the world in its darkness. She always seemed to watch the world in its darkness, she could relate to that. The dormant evil that had resided in her lands was rising now to poison all its inhabitants, the good felt the evil arise in their soul. You could not tell who was the enemy and who was the comrade when you met a new acquaintance. The race of Men, seemingly arising to power everywhere, were becoming very distrustful of anything they could not relate to, and so those of a more celestial kind were seeking their own refuge with boundaries bonded by the most powerful magic known. She dreaded going home, knowing she would walk in a world of strangers. She could not stay here though, not forever.  
  
"Legolas, where are you?" She had tried to reach out to him with her mind, but he did not answer; now she only hoped that the wind would carry her whisper to him. Elrond had sat her down for a very long discussion before he had left, feeling it was his responsibility to pass these last words of advice to her.  
  
***********  
  
"I once said the same thing to Estel, now I say the same thing to you; you can not escape from it."  
  
"I know this."  
  
"But you can not fight it totally alone."  
  
"It is meant for me to perform my actions alone."  
  
"For some time, yes."  
  
"I believe I will be like you...living and enduring while the one you greatly care for is so very out of your reach."  
  
"So you shall, but I am returning to those arms I love so much and have so greatly missed."  
  
Rhiannon gave a thoughtful nod, "It gladdens me greatly, Elrond, that you will find happiness again."  
  
"My dear Rhiannon, I never lost it. Celebrian may not be here with me, but I know I always have her love. We had a year to prepare for her departure; there were not many tears of anguish."  
  
"Did you know.before you married her..before she left..and Arwen also.did you know..?"  
  
"Yes, I knew both of Clebrian's attack before we wed and even of Arwen's fate long before she fell in love with Estel."  
  
"And yet, you let it all happen, you did not let."  
  
Elrond pulled Rhiannon into a tight embrace, "You have visions of the future you can not change. You and I, Rhiannon, our visions are different. Yes, we see a possible future that we may be able to change, but we also see our own futures and those we can not change no matter how hard we try. You may know the future, but you can not fear it. I believe you have received these visions for a very specific reason."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"Whatever higher powers there are that gift these things to you are telling you simply to stop wasting time. You have great bliss in you future, but you must act quickly."  
  
"Time is truly fleeting."  
  
"Do not fear it; do not let it hang a dark cloud over the happiness that is destined for you."  
  
"Happiness that ends in a grief so great it already brings me to my knees."  
  
"Happiness that wanes for sometime. He is your soulmate, Rhiannon. The Valar would not, in any good conscience, keep you separated for all eternity. Those of us that travel to Aman know it will only be a matter of time until Arda is reshaped and the return of Darkness will coincide with the return of the Elves. You, however, and those descended from you, are needed here to be the guides in between the events of this present and the events of that distant future."  
  
"Duty and love warring inside of me for all that time."  
  
"As it is for most of the Great. Do not be the coward and run from love, do not fear it, open your arms and except all of the beautiful pain and sadness with all of the grave joy and beauty that it contains."  
  
"I pray I have the strength to do so."  
  
"Let him be your strength."  
  
********************  
  
She needed his strength now. Where was he? Why hadn't he come? She reached out to her brother, he not being too happy about that since his mind and body was focused on Laurelin now. They better marry soon before a little 5/8 elven child came along. That would be an interesting combination.  
  
She tensed as someone entered her room, a feline smile on her face as she recognized that distinctive smell,  
  
"It certainly took you long enough."  
  
Soft hands slid down her blanket-covered arms, tugging her up, pulling her close to his warm body. A kiss was placed to the top of her head; the callused finger of the Woodland archer traced a line down her face,  
  
"I had many things to do, in order to meet my father's demands. I did not want you to know.. are you ready to leave?"  
  
"Must we leave tonight?"  
  
"No, not tonight. Two days hence."  
  
"Good. Hold me tonight?"  
  
"I would dream of doing nothing else."  
  
****  
  
It was not easy trying to creep in unseen to the Last Homely House. Oddly enough, the decreased numbers of the elven population in the area had resulted in an increase of security. Legolas could understand, and was quite glad he had left the dwarf in Minas Tirith repairing walls, or he had this odd feeling he would be fishing an irate Gimli out of one of the many booby traps. Luckily, Legolas was also recognized by all the sentries he passed, so no call was raised. When entering the House he had found Elrohir and his wife discussing a placement of a new tapestry, a group of servants saying when it looked off center. A very annoyed Elladan and a very incensed Menepaurion were the poor elves trying to place the tapestry of Earendel the Mariner in its correct position.  
  
Legolas just shook his head and continued up the stairs towards the bedrooms of those guests that were considered important or members of the family. Someone was bound to be around and able to inform him where Rhiannon's room was. As luck would have it, one door was propped open, and one could see inside to where the door to the balcony was open. There was a little huddled mass of ¾ elven that answered to the name Rhiannon. He had learnt so much about her past through his mother's journal, learned about his own past through that journal. He had asked his father's permission to bring the book with him to show it to Rhiannon, to put to rest any doubts that might be in her head about the two of them. He had closed off his mind to her, it had taken lots of effort, but he had wanted his work in Ithilien to be a surprise. From reading the description of Rhiannon's bedroom in his mother's journal, he tried his best to make a replica for their bedroom in Ithilien. He smiled their bedroom. He would have none of this nonsense between them about sleeping in different rooms, they tended to end up next to each other come morning, and this would just take the nonsense out. He could tell the moment she sensed him in her room, the tension ran through her shoulders,  
  
"It certainly took you long enough."  
  
**************************  
  
He had held her all night, as he had done during that journey, as he had not done for almost three years now. Three years was not supposed to mean anything to an elf, but it did to him. It was not just the years that had separated them. They had not parted on the best of terms, but he had not been in the clearest state of mind, and neither had she. Now, her loneliness, her despair was coming off in waves that made his own gut clench.  
  
He placed yet another soft kiss on her forehead; he had placed many of those soft kisses on her face during the night, knowing the physical contact calmed her.  
  
"My little one, all you have seen and been through. You would have never told me. Of course, I would have never believed you. No one believes how the innocent become corrupted, even when we live in those times."  
  
Legolas was silent.  
  
"I've let you down. I asked you to let go for me, I asked you to let me bear your own pain as you had mine, and what did I do? I let you stay here by yourself. Here is the place where your self-esteem was broken into thousands of tiny shards. No matter your own loyalty towards Elrond, I should not have left you here. I wish you would wake; we have so much to do and so much to talk about. I have tales from my father to tell you. He is smitten with you; I have never seen him so. He demanded I brought you with me before I could ever become the leader of the elves in Ithilien. He really is eager for grandchildren, silly old elf. He has always held a very soft spot for young elflings. Perhaps I jump too far ahead, but I do not believe so. We shall live like mortals, you and I, we have wasted so much time already. I know my days are numbered with you, but I refuse to listen to what Celeborn has told me. If I can not convince you to come with me in the end, I will just wait for you until you join me. For you will one day. I have to believe that. To have you and lose you will be hard enough. To have you and lose you forever..I refuse to believe that, it would be a cursed and empty existence. I refuse to waste this gift we have between us, this time we have. However, if you do not awake soon, I will be forced to take extreme measures."  
  
No response from the female in his arms, just a little scrunch of a nose.  
  
"I read my mother's reports of your childhood in her journal. She mentioned that your skin is very sensitive, she called it, "ticklish," I believe. Apparently you will make a sound similar to a yelping dog if I skim the right area of your skin. Perhaps this will wake you up." He trailed his fingers over her exposed collarbone, a little wiggling from his victim, but no true response. His fingers skimmed up and down the bare skin on her arms; more wiggling and a turn to the side. He reached down and skimmed his hands over her bare calves; more twisting and a muffled snort but no yelp. He tried her feet; he always tended to jump when someone accidentally touched the soles of his feet. He ran a single finger up and down the arches of her feet; this resulted in a reflexive quick but no yelping. Legolas gave her a determined look, he had been wondering for some time what this noise sounded like coming from her. Was it like her laugh, low and soft, occasionally scruffy? Or was it like the delighted shriek she made when Aragorn had found a certain oil in Minas Tirith that she had not been able to find anywhere else? Legolas knew that she, like most people, especially elves, was very sensitive around her ears, and while this brought on a reaction he did enjoy, it did not bring on the one he now desired to hear. He started to raise his hands to tickle her sides when a very tired and annoyed voice stated,  
  
"Tickle me again and you will find your Lothlorien bow shoved down your throat."  
  
"You were supposed to be sleeping."  
  
"You told me to wake-up."  
  
"So I did."  
  
Legolas climbed back onto the bed with the natural grace of a stealthy cat. He also stretched out liked a pleased cat beside her.  
  
"I read somewhere that you." he started.  
  
"I know what you read, I heard you somewhat. The words registered, but the rest of me refused to wake. Why do you not rest?"  
  
He ran a thumb down her cheek, over the bottom lip he had not had the pleasure of kissing in years, "I am not tired."  
  
Rhiannon, just having been woken, and letting her body take over as opposed to her still slightly sleep-fogged mind, did not even consider the fact that she was slightly nibbling on the thumb that had been resting on her bottom lip.  
  
Legolas let out a soft breath, not used to this side of her, having never seen it before,  
  
"Are you always like this when you first wake?"  
  
She let his thumb go and rubbed her face against his palm,  
  
"Only sometimes, my father always stated it was the slight faery blood from his side. We really are comprised of many different races."  
  
"Why would faery blood make you act like this?"  
  
She raised up, closer to him,  
  
"It is the month of May."  
  
A simple answer for her, a very confusing answer for him.  
  
"This means what?"  
  
"It is the month in which all give their prayers to the goddess of fertility for the harvest of both crops and fertility; it causes something very primal to awaken in my father's family."  
  
Legolas was suddenly finding difficulty swallowing,  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"Brhagdan is only one of my brothers. My father has probably lost count of all those he has fathered, pathetic I know. Brhagdan is probably also reacting this way now. Your father may find himself with that elfling he so craves, it will just be Laurelin's."  
  
Rhiannon moved closer to Legolas, snuggling into his very warm side,  
  
"You are tense." she stated.  
  
"You are acting out of character, my little chaste step-daughter of a priestess."  
  
"You are being overly prudish, my little incorrigible prince of the woods."  
  
"I do not wish for you to regret something brought about something you can not control."  
  
"Legolas, it is something I can control, if it was not, I would have become a very debauched female many, many, many years ago."  
  
"Do you want this?"  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"I believed we had this discussion back in Minas Tirith."  
  
"Neither one of us were in a good place then. You are yourself now, more wise, more hardened, but yourself."  
  
"And you?"  
  
"I am well. I just missed you. You shut me out."  
  
"You will soon find out why, it was necessary. And I do want this; you know that, have known."  
  
She looked down slightly, fingers playing with one of the ties on his tunic,  
  
"It will change everything."  
  
"It will."  
  
"But it will strengthen everything."  
  
"It will also do that."  
  
"I am a little scared."  
  
"All maidens tend to be, and males also for their first time. I can become wise and tell you it is as life is, pain must be wrought for pleasure to be felt."  
  
"I do not like you wise, you remind me of Elrond, and that is not what you should remind me of."  
  
Legolas let out a laugh,  
  
"For most couples this is done with great preparation, romantic walks, dinner, candles, flowers, pointless poetry and prose of the great love through the ages."  
  
"We are too rational for that. And besides, we have not been brought together by any normal circumstances to say the least. I known your mind, I know your arousal; I know this is not about pointless lust and the male need to conquer. I can feel what you want and what you want to do. I think we are both at an extreme advantage."  
  
Legolas, feeling her own needs and desires through the link smiled wolfishly,  
  
"Yes, I believe we are.now.silence." He pressed his lips to hers, very effectively demonstrating his command.  
  
********************  
  
A very confused Menepaurion came up from the stables,  
  
"Why is Arod in the stables? That is Legolas' horse."  
  
Elrohir looked up from the board game he was playing with his brother,  
  
"A sentry off duty has just informed us that Legolas arrived hours ago. He most likely snuck in while we were hanging the tapestry. He always did like to hide from us."  
  
Elladan, concentrating on his game pieces more so than the conversation at hand simply stated,  
  
"Menepaurion, my dear, do not worry about it. I am sure Legolas just desired some time alone with Rhiannon and we shall give them as long as they wish. He is probably here to collect her anyway. Father sailed some time ago."  
  
"Yes, it was almost a full year ago." His brother agreed.  
  
"A bit more than half a year." Elladan stated.  
  
"Closer to a year than a half of a year." Elrohir argued  
  
"I disagree." Elladan was more than ready to start a verbal sparring match with his brother, even though he was more likely to lose that one than the board game.  
  
Menepaurion just shook his head, "Noldorian elves, you ask for an answer and you get an argument instead."  
  
********************  
  
A/N: Yes, they finally hooked up, but this story is pg-13 so work with me.  
  
Also, this chapter was greatly influenced by Nine Day's album "The Madding Crowd." The title comes from "If I Am" and the quote from "Bob Dylan." The songs, "Sometimes" and "So Far Away" also had a great influence. Good music, you should go check it out if you can. ;)  
  
Jouri, my little cheerleader, the one that makes my hamster wheel turn (that is a compliment, I swear) this one (and the last three really) goes out to you.  
  
Dimi, my friend, my twin soul, my pain in my assus (now, that was not a typo) I love you, if just for dealing with all my "pupups." I promise you elf porn later.. or maybe just Dommie.  
  
Blakely, HAHA-You used Tea Party lyrics! Admit, it, you like them! I have that wallpaper saved for proof! 


	27. Chapter TwentySeven: The End is the Begi...

Warning: Very long chapter, with lots of jumping around, but I wanted to finish the story so I could move onto the sequel which will hopefully answer all un-answered questions.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Seven: The End is the Beginning (Pt.1)  
  
The End Is Where We Start From  
  
What we call the beginning is often the end  
  
And to make an end is to make a beginning  
  
The end is where we start from. And every phrase  
  
And sentence that is right (where every word is at home  
  
Taking its place to support the others.  
  
The word neither diffident nor ostentatious,  
  
An easy commerce of the old and the new,  
  
The common word without vulgarity,  
  
The formal word precise but not pedantic,  
  
The complete consort dancing together).  
  
Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning  
  
Every poem an epitaph. And any action  
  
Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat  
  
Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we star.  
  
We die with the dying:  
  
See, they depart, and we go with them.  
  
We are born with the dead:  
  
See, they return, and bring us with them.  
  
The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree  
  
Are of equal duration. A people without history  
  
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern  
  
Of timeless moments. So while the light fails  
  
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel  
  
History is now and England.  
  
-T. S. Eliot  
  
***************  
  
Ithilien  
  
******************  
  
Menepaurion gazed up at the beautiful summer sky, its bright orb mocking his dark mood. The mood a result of not one night of restful sleep for three months. Rhiannon and Legolas were not exactly happy with each other at the current moment and life in the newly re-settled Ithilien was turning into a very chaotic experience. There had not been one night since the elves had been here that Legolas and Rhiannon had not engaged in some type of argument. This fair land was supposed to be a refuge for them. It was not turning out to be so. Menepaurion spoke to nature, having no one else to complain to,  
  
"I was hoping for a moment of peace and quiet, a few months without yelling or slamming doors or futile fights and yet, here I am, living with just that."  
  
Nature's answer was silent; yet he was hopeful. Rhiannon had been wishing to go back to Eryn Lasgalen ever since they arrived in Ithilien. She missed her brother, had not seen him in fact since she had left Gondor with Elrond's company. She also missed the King of the Woodland Realm, whom she had formed a strong kinship with after only a few days. However, they had left from Imladris making a straight course towards Ithilien and had not stopped in the lands of Legolas' father. In fact, Legolas had been avoiding the Kingdom of the Wood like the plague. He had sent a messenger to collect the elves that wished to settle here. It made Menepaurion wonder what the prince had to fear. Perhaps his father insisting on a wedding ceremony and a grandchild. Thranduil really was a softie. One just had to break through his lovely jewel-encrusted shell.  
  
*******************  
  
Ithilien, Rhiannon was torn in this beautiful land.  
  
However, it was a tear on her heart, to be so close to the borders of her own homeland and yet so far. The physical relationship between Legolas and herself had deepened greatly, however there was still a large amount of doubt between the two, mostly caused by the hidden secrets between them. Parts of the past they were not ready to tell, to reveal, to share. Amazing how you can be such a part of someone and yet so far away from them. The closer they came together, the farther they came apart. Torn in coming here, she had much more preferred to live in Eryn Lasgalen with the King, in the caves than in the land of Men. Spend a few months in Middle-Earth and adopt the snobbish elf attitude. Rhiannon shook her head. Ithilien was now a land of elves, was it not? She did not feel comfortable here, it was not home. The land still cried from the torture it had borne witness to for so long. Danger still lay in wait in the surrounding woods and deceptively open plains. Something about the land suffocated her and she had no doubt she would breath freer under rock than up here in the open air. She searched the skyline, watching as the birds flew free to where their hearts lay, singing songs of contentment she could not touch. Rhiannon curled up and rested her head on her knees. She needed her family. She had never felt the pang of homesickness so much before. She just HAD to go see her brother; Legolas would be hurt if she left so soon. He was so proud of the small gathering of elves he was ruling over. Surely he had done wonders with the land. Rhiannon just could not be here, not now. Morosely she pulled herself up and made her way towards Legolas' dwelling, laughing at the sudden downpour, the sky reflecting her tormented spirit.   
  
************************  
  
Ithilien. Legolas felt a peace settle over him in this land. As close to the sea as it was, the longing always felt stifled in this newly replenished land. Yet some longings were far from stifled. Rhiannon was withdrawing from him; if she was full elf he would claim she was showing the first stages of fading. Perhaps he should have permitted a stop to see his father. Legolas often forgot Middle Earth was not the true home of Rhiannon; he forgot that the sea which called for him also called her home. The farther away they traveled from Imladris, the more short-tempered Rhiannon had become. She had taken to wandering much of Ithilien on her own, climbing small hills and staring off into the horizon for hours. She was looking for something, waiting. He wished he knew what it was. The majority of her mind was closed off to him. She had not shut him out fully; no, she would never do that. Legolas was being forced to realize he was tied to a person he knew little about. His mother's diary stated Rhiannon was a person of intense privacy and contemplation. More often than not it was best to leave her alone and let her brood.   
  
Legolas was not used to being so passive. When someone around him hurt he wished to do all he could to assuage that pain. Legolas surveyed the dining table he now sat at. There were no official place rankings, people sat where they felt the need to. Rhiannon, perhaps in a bit of revelation of her life, made a comment about Knights and Round Tables once…whatever that meant. Rhiannon now sat between two elven ladies, politely listening to their conversation but not truly engaged. Her eyes kept straying to the open windows. Legolas shook his head,  
  
"What am I to do with you?"  
  
"Perhaps let her go to her brother as she so obviously wishes."  
  
Legolas visibly jumped at Menepaurion's condescending tone. The elf was as brash as they came.   
  
"Do you enjoy just sneaking up on people like that? Don't you know it is one way to get yourself killed?"  
  
"Good thing I'm no longer a soldier." Menepaurion followed Legolas' gaze. "She's homesick. And since she can not return to her real home out of her duty to you; and she can not stay in Imladris also out of her duty to you; and can not go to your father because of her…"  
  
"Duty to me. Yes, I understand your point. She won't leave here until I assure her it is alright to leave and she will not be content until she is around something she associates as home. Am I not allowed to feel the least bit annoyed she does feel I am home to her? My soul is entwined with her after all."  
  
Menepaurion let out a small laugh, "Charming princeling you may be, you seem not to realize souls and hearts are two very different things. Two overly-cautious people with two very guarded hearts should never be permitted to become soul bound. Then again, this is perhaps the reason you were chosen. Two very stubborn asses you are. She needs to talk to your father before she can tell you anything she truly feels?"  
  
Legolas shook his head, "Why is that necessary?"  
  
Menepaurion gave a secretive smile, "He has been where she will be. Really, he has been where you will be. Odd it seems how history enjoys repeating itself with your family. I suppose all will turn well in the end."  
  
"Since when do you have the gift of foresight?" Legolas deadpanned.  
  
"No foresight at all, my friend, for foresight has nothing to do with it. I look to the past which has been hidden from you. One I know well for my grandfather was a close friend to your own. My family has always played their part, as your family has always played its own, and the guardian's family has always played theirs."  
  
"Guardian?"  
  
"Nothing for you to worry about at this time. Will you let her go? I shall go with her. I fear we will be attending a wedding soon enough there anyway. Ugh, to think I will be related by law to Rhiannon. The horror."  
  
"Stop, you love her as much as your sister. Admit it."  
  
Menepaurion sniffed, "I may enjoy trading some barbs with her every now and then."  
  
Legolas gave him a signature cynical look. The prince rolled his eyes and then finally nodded, "You may leave. But I expect you to come to Minas Tirith when I summon you. Elessar has planned an event to take place three years hence. You best be there and on time."  
  
Menepaurion raised a wheat-gold eyebrow, "I am never tardy. And she won't be. Not on my watch."  
  
"Good." Legolas was silent for some time. "Take care of her, please."  
  
"You know I will. I have no desire to face the combined wrath of you and your father."  
  
************************************************************************************************************  
  
Eryn Lasgalen, 1426, by Shire Reckoning  
  
*************************  
  
Rhiannon found herself in a very familiar situation, sitting timidly in the personal office of King Thranduil, attempting to look out the very small and very high windows. Now that Brhagdan was wed and the celebrations had passed, she was sitting done for the long lecture she knew awaited her the moment she stepped foot inside Thranduil's realm. He had many years to compile all his complaints after all.  
  
She stared down at her hands, lightly tracing the patterns which were painted into her skin, the color just now fading. She was happy for her brother, and yet unbelievably sad. In the end heart did become before family, and he would chose heart. The ceremony had been beautiful. Laurea had shined with an unnatural light, Brhagdan's eyes sparkled with good humor. Rhiannon regretted Cerethena's absence but knew the priestess had her own duties.   
  
Thranduil sat at his desk studying Rhiannon. The young one showed little change in regards to her physical appearance, her soul, however, was darker than the norm.   
  
"You are very uncertain about your future."  
  
No response from the silent figure, sitting at attention in the high-backed chair. Thranduil's emerald eyes gleamed with a light most would find unnerving.  
  
"I shall tell you a story, my little one. Tis about an archer of Greenwood and the little sprite he found. One day, a young archer was wandering through the woods near his father's garden. This elf was barely past his majority and was hiding from all the mothers who wished to push their eligible daughters onto his person. He knew he would not give into their wishes, for this elf was determined to wait for love and love alone. If he never found such a priceless gift, then he was determined to spend his life alone. This arrogant elf would only settle for the very best, of course.   
  
While walking in the woods his eyes were captivated by a being glowing with light. He had often heard tales of the maiden who wandered in the woods, but never believed such childish folly. Yet, here, before his very eyes stood a maiden encompassed in pale light. The longer he stared, the more warmth infused his being and the more infatuated he became with this maiden. Everything of her was a beautiful lightness; her hair, her skin, her eyes. The archer knew he had found love, in that very moment his soul called out to this light. He made to move towards her, not wanting to startle this vision away, when one misstep caused him to snap a twig, quite an embarrassment for a woodland archer. The maiden turned towards him, and as opposed to running away like a startled doe, she met his gaze straight on and the air around seemed to cackle. Her gaze spoke of wit and intelligence, challenge and intrigue. She spoke to him in a laughing tone,  
  
"Are you mute, rude, or awed? It does neither one of us good to stand there with your mouth gaping. Come, tell me your name."  
  
The archer did. She laughed. "Are you not a little far from your Ivory Tower?"  
  
The archer was confused by this reference and questioned the being about what she meant.  
  
"Silly archer," she replied, "Surely you can tell I am not of this land. Not wholly at least. I only come here to rest and visit with my mother."  
  
By this point the archer had no idea what he was dealing with, except that this maiden was not an elf. He left the woods that day, asking if he could meet the maiden again some time. She told him to come to the woods at the same time every week and that would be their time of meeting.  
  
For many years the two kept up with their secretive correspondence. Neither one was keen to let the whole kingdom know of their blooming relationship. The archer knew this was the one he had waited for.   
  
All was well until one day the archer was sent off to war. He left with a large company, including his father. He returned, a broken and bruised soul, fatherless, brotherless, and with very few of his comrades. He returned to a wood stuck deep in mourning. He could find no warmth or light. He went to the woods to find his maiden of light, to seek her warmth and her reassurances. When he found her, she simply opened her arms. He rushed into them and wept for all her had lost, begging her to never leave him; this one being he held all the happiness and joy he had left. The archer was determined to keep his lady of light to him for all time, and finally asked for her hand in marriage. She agreed and for a very long while they lived in utter happiness raising their children. Her last gift to him was a bundle of light named Legolas.   
  
His maiden had a duty, one which her people had served from the beginning of time and would always continue to serve. She could not, in good conscious, abandon her duty. She could not stay in her beloved Ivory Tower while the world outside went on, needing her power and protection. For she was a Guardian. An ancient sect of people chosen to guide the movement of all worlds.  
  
Her archer was bitterly forced to let her go. But he understood, knowing she did not wish to leave him. She had to. She promised to him she would return as soon as her duty was finished. And he held her to that, as he always will. He loved her so much, in fact, he knew he had to let her go. You, my dear one, will have to do this."  
  
Realization dawned on Rhiannon as she listened to the end of Thranduil's story,  
  
"You did not let her return. She was ready to return and you forbid it."  
  
"Yes, I did not want the darkness to consume her warm light Dol Guldur would have destroyed her. She understood my reasoning, despite the pain we both knew it would cause."  
  
"The shadow is gone now. Why does she not….she can not travel to Aman."  
  
"Correct once again, my little one. To leave this land, and to cut ties with the outer realms, would destroy everything she knows and stands for. She is a guardian and will not forsake such a lofty position. She needs to guide those special souls on their journey through life until one has been trained enough to take her place. Even then I doubt she could leave all of this which she knows."  
  
"What about your future, my king, what shall you do?"  
  
"I have already vowed never to leave these lands until she has returned and to that vow I will always hold. Once she returns we shall remain here, fading with the earth we love so much if that should be the course of this existence. I myself can not forsake these lands. Few of my people can. We are Wood Elves; we have lived under these eves for ages. We have died defending this wood. Our blood and ashes have sunk into this soul and breathed immortal life into all that surrounds us. No, my dear Rhiannon, I can never leave a place so inter-twined with my very own being and I will not abandon my people who choose to remain."  
  
"I admire you greatly, Thranduil, despite what many may have said you have one of the purest and strongest flames I have ever seen."  
  
"I am just the most stubborn of all elves that have lived."  
  
"Ah, yes. But you are also a strong and wise one, and for that I admire you."  
  
"You will one day understand this, my young one, for you shall become what I now am."  
  
"I know, my Lord."  
  
"Do you still fear the future?"  
  
"No, my Lord. I embrace the unknown path before me, wherever it shall lead, no matter how hard it shall become."  
  
"Will you hesitate with telling my son?"  
  
"No longer shall I hesitate, my Lord."  
  
"You have finally learned something. Welcome to Knowledge. You shall now experience great levels of harshness and pain, for now you shall no longer dwell in that bliss they call ignorance."  
  
*******************************  
  
Rhiannon and Menepaurion reluctantly left the Woodland king's company. They had a promise to Legolas to fulfill, and a birthing ceremony to attend. Neither was happy, but they both knew where there duty lay. They wished their siblings happiness in their marriage, promising to visit again as soon as they were able. Thranduil held significant looks with both Rhiannon and Menepaurion, knowing they both were charged with duties he had ordered them to fulfill. Rhiannon would have to have a long talk with Legolas, and Menepaurion had to make sure they didn't kill each other.  
  
******************  
  
Minas Tirith, 1426, by Shire Reckoning  
  
************************  
  
Legolas was delighted to be back in the company of the Fellowship; or at least those members who still dwelled in Arda. Rejoice was going through all the friends, the birth of Aragorn's third child was soon to occur. The King was already the father of two beautiful girls. Legolas had not dwelled in the capital of Gondor since the wedding of Elessar and Arwen. Now, for at least two years, he would dwell with his good friends. Frodo had long since passed over the Sea; Sam was too busy with things in the Shire and new little hobbits. It still amazed Legolas how fast the life of mortals changed when it was all nothing but a breath to him.   
  
*****************************  
  
She sat on one of the balconies of the 6th level of the city. She had once come here for peace, all those years ago, when Elessar, Legolas, Gimli and many others were at the Black Gates fighting. She remembered talking to Merry and spying on Faramir and Eowyn as they had their first meeting, the healing houses having driven them all to madness. It still amazed her how fast things changed in the mortal world; even to mortals it must have seemed as a blink of an eye. She was once told by a tutor, years and years ago, that the soul was like the earth; it weathered over time, but it took years for a significant change to occur. She had believed those words once, they had become her mantra. Now as she set huddled up on this stone balcony she knew this was far from the truth. It took a whole month to change her person significantly, one touch of a destined hand on her arm to change the course she had planned to hold to. She was not who she once was, no one was. She hated that with a passion. Life is never simple, destiny is not written in stone. She had said those same exact words to Elessar once, and here she sat in his city refusing to believe the words she once said.  
  
"I'm such a child." she mumbled to the wind.  
  
"You are far from it, in fact, I think you have matured greatly since the first time I met you." Rhiannon visibly jumped at the voice which had destroyed her private musings and moping. She threw Menepaurion a very convincing glare.  
  
"Why exactly did you decide to journey with us north? Do you not have a place in Imladris to torture and annoy others?"  
  
Menepaurion gave her an impish smile; she had never seen the elf look so young and charming. Elladan had been a good influence on him. Or a horrible one. She had yet to decide.  
  
The golden elf sat himself next to her,  
  
"While I may pass the time of my amusement in Imladris, my duty is to Legolas and Thranduil. Under Thranduil's rules I am to look after his son and his daughter-in-every-way-but-name-and blood. I had thought the Prince would have let us stay in Eryn Lasgalen for some time, seeing as how your brother and my sister are residing there. And since we are now a family, I am obligated to stay by your side."  
  
"Are you also not obligated to serve me as I please?"  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
"Then it pleases me to be left alone."  
  
"No, I am sorry. My obligation to the King still holds more sway then my obligation to you; he did offer a home to my family after all. The obligation says I am not allowed to let you mope and muse. It's bad for the face and bad for your relationship with the Prince. Musing does not carry over well into the bedchamber."  
  
"MENEPAURION!"  
  
"It's true. Once again, obligation to the King: grandchildren."  
  
"He is very pushy for an elf."  
  
"Pushy, lonely, wants the warmth that comes into the home with a young child."  
  
"He may get that wish granted soon."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Not from me you stupid orcish excuse of a Trojan Horse of an elf. That's what you are. The orc in elf clothing! I have finally figured it out."  
  
"I was wondering who had been rifling through my wig and face paint collection."  
  
The two shared a laugh, looking over the city.  
  
"Do you remember what it looked like when we first came here, the gates fallen, black smoke all around, the hopelessness tangible and mixed with the ash in the air?"  
  
"It would a take a blind fool to forget such a sight, and even then they would remember it. Estel has done wonders for this city. Amazing how much one city can change from one ruler to the next."  
  
"Well, yes, the ruler change and that whole vanquishing of evil thing."  
  
"Ah, yes, that."  
  
"Menepaurion, when will you pass over the Sea?"  
  
"I should expect when Legolas goes, although I may stay longer if I feel the need to. Thranduil and my people do not seem keen to leave these shores."  
  
"No, they are not, their fates, more so than the other elves, are entwine with the yarn of Arda. I fear they would fade if they were not allowed to dwell under their beloved birches in their forest. This is paradise for them."  
  
"Yes, Woodland kin truly feel the tie to this land. They always have, and they always shall."  
  
"The elven blood needed to sustain Arda, the spirit of the elves; the Woodland kin will keep it flowing."  
  
"I pray for that, but with times of peace during the rise of Men, I fear they will soon come to overtake our land, and claim they have the right to it."  
  
A fierce fire rose in Rhiannon at those words. A protectiveness for the untainted holiness the elves had when it came to their land, a vow rose within her mind and passed out of her mouth before she even realized,  
  
"I swear, by all I hold dear now and shall ever hold dear, that your Woodland kingdom will remain protected. I do not care how much energy I have to force into hidden boundaries, I will. There will come a time in the future, a time when darkness has returned, when elves will be needed once again." Rhiannon continued on, for once her visions of the future flowing out in words to Menepaurion, "It will be many years from now, millennia. Elves will be nothing but figments of the past, creatures of a childish and over-active mind. All the lessons learned on Arda will be forsaken and fade into the dust and ash that is the result of the burned passion of life and history. Yet the past will be needed to secure the future. And Greenwood will stand, and under her great boughs elves will still dwell, no matter how lost to the world of Men they have become."  
  
"Have you had a vision, my lady?"  
  
"Not exactly. I just know I will not leave the shores of my home land for many years to come. And in my solitude, my only hope will be to preserve the land of his people."  
  
"You mean not to go with him?"  
  
"I never had, I never promised to. Legolas gets weaker everyday he stays on these shores. I become stronger. We have little time left. We never did seem to have much time."  
  
"Then why do you waste the precious time you have left dwelling on foolish doubts on these cold steps with me?"  
  
"I lack in wit."  
  
"Intelligence, possibly. Wit, never." Menepaurion stood up and held his hand out. "Come, you have an elf prince to talk to. If not of your far future, then what you plan to do in the next few years. If you then proceed to get drunk, wind up in bed together, become with child, and give birth to a male, then all problems will be solved."  
  
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Ithilien, 1458, Shire Reckoning  
  
********************  
  
And here she sat in Ithilien, reminiscing on the long and drawn out lecture and lessons Thranduil had taught her on that evening in his office. She had promise not to hesitate, not to let her fear overwhelm her. Yet the minute she saw Legolas again all the fear came rushing back and she did hesitate. Rhiannon could never recall having broken a vow before, and she just had. Perhaps this was the knowledge Thranduil spoke of, every decision you make, all the action you either take or do not, has more impact that ever before. She let her mind drift back to those last words the King had spoken to her.  
  
"You let fear run your life."  
  
The soft whisper of the King of Mirkwood had been in her head for weeks now. He knew her fear, and knew she was thinking of leaving his son, the elf they both loved so much.  
  
It was fear. But not of Legolas, never of him.  
  
She feared his wrath; one she knew would once be brought on her. She had seen the future of their time together and had known it could only end in pain. And yet she did nothing to hinder the progress of her relationship with the Greenleaf.  
  
Did that not show some courage?  
  
Thranduil was correct, she knew he was. Her fear did run her life, and in the process was slowly ruining all the plans Legolas had set out for their relationship.  
  
They were bonded in mind and spirit, was that not enough?  
  
Why did he need a ceremony?  
  
He said they had been bonded in the eyes of her gods, seeing as how it was her power that had put them in this situation. They had needed an official ceremony in front of his own gods, if just to prove to the people he now ruled that they were wed. He did not wish to have any child of his called a bastard.  
  
She knew, had always known, she could not have an elven ceremony performed. Her fear ruled that. She would lose her last true part of herself; forsaking her own beliefs for those of his. Was it not enough that they just loved each other? Why did he need those words said in front of others that they did not truly know?  
  
Was it not just a fear ruling his life?  
  
Rhiannon bowed her head; she could not give him what he wanted. And that would be the storm cloud that would hover over the relationship for years.   
  
Perhaps they were star-crossed. Perhaps it was all coincidence and nothing of fate. Fear did not rule her life; doubt did.  
  
A new whisper from Thranduil started in her head; "Doubt and fear come from the same viper within your breast."  
  
Rhiannon knew her time was running out, knew she was wasting the precious bits she had left. She had no heeded every warning that had been passed down to her. She would no longer waste it. And there, on that hill in Ithilien so reminiscent of the faery mounds of her home, Rhiannon made a vow to herself that she would never break. Legolas would know just how much she cared for him, and even if he left this realm doubting the authenticity of her spoken words and emotions, Rhiannon would not sped eternity wading in guilt, for she would know that she had told him the truth from her very soul.  
  
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(Pt. 2 to come soon)  
  
A/N: I apolgize for all the skipping around. Thank you Jouri for you unending support with my struggle through this story. Next part will be the ending. There will be a sequel, but since it will largely concern original characters, it will only be posted on my website (which you can access through my profile). On that page will also be the thank-you's for the story (since ff.net no longer let's you put up non-story chapters) and the "inspirations" page of Engima along with the "Engima Soundtrack" started ages ago from a comment made by Jen. Yes, I know it's alot of crap....but the story has been worked on for two years, you accquire a lot of crap this way. Also, I apologize for the insanely long delay. It's been a hard year of college, and I'm trying to get into History Honors, so I've need to devote a lot of time again. Once again, I apoligize for the wait. 


	28. The End is the Beginning Pt 2

_**Chapter 27, part two**_

_**Eryn Lasgalen, March 1521**_

The entire Woodland Realm hushed as they felt a great power enter their beloved wood. Workers stopped and turned to look as a vision of grace and immense magic walked slowly through the woods, instinctively knowing where she was headed. Her skin was of a rich gold only seen on one other in this Wood. Her eyes flashed a brilliant green, a knowing smile spread on her face. She had to be visiting for the two expected births. Rumors had been flying stating Prince Legolas' female companion would not survive a birth without this special person present.

Cerethena smiled as she read all the minds of those she walked past. One became used to attracting crowds, especially in a land where her kind had not been seen for Ages. She found herself in front of a gate and watched amusedly as it opened, her obviously harried son hurried out and gathered her into his arms,

"Blessed Olympus you are finally here!" Brhagdan exclaimed.

Cerethena laughed at her beloved child, "Has your wife been wearing on your nerves?"

Brhagdan gave a huff, reverting to his child-like self, "Wearing is too nice a word. Add to that the state which Rhiannon is in. I now understand why father never wanted her to have children. The next time her mood changes I swear someone will die."

"Do not taunt your sister. Pregnancies wear a woman down; a male could never understand. Your sister's powers are not mastered and won't be for centuries yet, of course they would become out of hand at such a traumatic time. Additionally, she knows her time with Legolas and her child will be short-lived. You must excuse her; she has a right to be agitated."

Brhagdan nodded his head, "Forgive me, mother. I forget. Rhiannon does not talk about the future. She has said nothing to Legolas."

"And she will not. It is the nature of a guardian, like Rhiannon, like Legolas' own mother, to never dampen the spirit of the one you love until you absolutely must. She does not want that storm cloud present for the rest of her time with him. Now, enough talk about your stubborn sister. Tell me of this wife of yours. The one you wed _without_ your mother present."

Brhagdan had the grace the blush at his mother's knowing look.

"Well, you see, we…that is to say….curse you."

Cerethena's magical laughter, so similar to the elves' own, rang out amongst the stone keep, bringing a smile to all who heard it.

Eryn Lasgalen had not seen a day in which two births occurred for centuries. Those of a more suspicious nature claimed this magical occurrence was due to the fae blood so obviously seen in Brhagdan and Rhiannon.

_Ithilien, 1535_

Legolas stood among the archery fields, watching as his new archers took to practice. Some were mortal, some elven, all wishing to improve their skills. Occasionally his gaze traveled to one of the awnings standing behind him. There his dear friend Gimli grumbled as a small boy laughed and tugged on his beard. Legolas smiled at his son, Egladaon was truly incorrigible. No one could refuse the boy anything; one would be tempted to call him spoilt if it was not for his sunny temperament. Egladhon was overly-cheerful, even for an elfling. The boy already showed signs of his father's inquisitiveness and his mother's sarcasm. Few could manage to roll their eyes in the prefect way Egladhon managed. Legolas was a proud papa to be sure. He in no way compared to the Grandfather though. Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen had melted into a puddle when he first held his grandchild within his arms; the child had held sway over his grandfather ever since.

_Ithilien, 1541_

In the false springtime of life, when the joy of youth returns, time seems to last forever and then abruptly ends. Winter sets and despite the long and desolate state of nature, time flies. The end of days comes too swiftly to all. Rhiannon had felt it for months, and when Aragorn took to his perpetual rest she knew the Springtime with her husband, in all but name, had come to an abrupt end. Legolas already had a ship in the works to sail West. Arwen, after some council to her son, had left Eldarion to rule on his own. She began her death march towards the haunted husks of trees once known as Loth Lorien. Celeborn had departed from East Lorien, headed towards his grandsons at Imladris. They would leave with Arwen's passing from this world. The elves of the Greenwood stubbornly stayed. They would fade with Arda, nothing could pull them from this land they so loved. Rhiannon and Brhagdan had gone to great lengths to ensure none would force the elves out. The lifespan of Arda depended on the presence of the elves, their love of nature and natural magic. Before his departure, Celeborn had sent s a missive to Rhiannon charging her and her brother with the protection of the staying elves and their descendents on Arda. Rhiannon was extremely relived Thranduil still remained in his stone halls. He would not leave until his beloved wife returned. Such were the vows of the heart, never to be undone or broken. She smiled as she looked to the East. Her brother, sworn bachelor, was now a happy husband and proud father of three. He too would one day pass West. Hopefully the small strain of elvish blood he had would allow passage. He was an immortal by nature, after all. He had taken the marriage vows of the Eldar and obviously his bond had been blessed by the Valar. Rhiannon would weep for days when he eventually left her; her knight protector he truly was. But no day would make her weep more than that which was to come. Legolas' departure with Gimli and Egladhon. Cerethena was supposed to come to be her support, both having foreseen this moment for years. There was only a slight problem; Rhiannon had yet to inform Legolas she was not accompanying him. Pain in life seems to last forever, a never-ending series of knives in the back, fire piercing the skin. Content times, times of peace, times of happiness and hope seem to fade faster than sunlight on a dark day. So did Rhiannon's life seem. As the years passed on, and it became more obvious Aragorn was starting to tire of this world, preparing to lay down for the sleep of eternity, she felt in her bones the loss of not only her dear king, but also of her husband, and her son. She had already made the decisions for all. When Legolas passed over the Sea, he would take their son.

**Epilogue**.

_Ithilien, Banks of the Anduin, 1542_

_And all the paths were overgrown  
When the priests of pride say there is no other way  
I tilled the sorrows of stone_

_I did not believe because I could not see  
Though you came to me in the night  
When the dawn seemed forever lost  
You showed me your love in the light of the stars_

_Cast your eyes on the ocean  
Cast your soul to the sea  
When the dark night seems endless  
Please remember me_

_Then the mountain rose before me  
By the deep well of desire  
From the fountain of forgiveness  
Beyond the ice and the fire_

_Though we share this humble path, alone  
How fragile is the heart  
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly  
To touch the face of the stars_

_Breathe life into this feeble heart  
Lift this mortal veil of fear  
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears  
We'll rise above these earthly cares_

_Please remember me_

_Please remember me…._

-Lyrics from _Dante's Cry_, Loreena McKennitt.

Sometimes lovers are star-crossed from the beginning, and therefore their tales do not come to happy ends. Sometimes lovers put themselves in positions so that it is impossible for their story to have a happy ending. Sometimes we think fate has dealt a hard card against us, when in truth, it has only sent us down the right paths, even if they are the hardest and longest. We can often not see the wisdom in the hard decisions we have made, we can only see the pain. Only feel the regret, the wistfulness of wishes for "What if?" and "What might have been?" Rhiannon of the Emerald Isle felt all of this, as she watched her lover, her soul mate, Anam Cara in the words of her father's people, sail off towards the West. Legolas' proud back never turned towards her, never looked back, but kept itself stiff and tense; his gaze fixed on the direction of his destination. The slender physique of her proud lover as he sat there, paddling towards the Undying Lands of his people, imprinted itself on her mind and caused pain and anger within her soul for many years. The sight that brought the proud ¾-elven to her knees was the small head of her young son, her only child, turning to gift her with one last glance. He did not understand why his mother was not accompanying his father and his "uncle" Gimli on this adventure. He did not understand that more than an age would pass before he would ever see his mother again. Did not realize that he would one day forget the visage of the woman who showered him with comfort and love for all of his younger years. He would not remember, not acknowledge, the fact that his mother had made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of duty. Rhiannon would never forget her son and her husband, for she could not. Even if she was not cursed with a vivid memory, she did not realize, like her Cerethena did, that she carried two small beings within her. She did not know that all her feelings of despair, her anger at all the unnamable forces that put her in this position, was truly all for not. Rhiannon, wise though she was in her somewhat ignorance, did not realize that her prayers for happiness and contentment, that feeling of security, were answered, just not in the way she expected.

Several centuries later Rhiannon, now the last leader in the Unhidden Realms, for the diluted elven blood that remained in the world of Men, would watch a film, and amazing story told with pictures and sounds, and the lines in the film, a comedy truly, had set themselves in her mind for days…. "Life is pain"….It is. She had told her children as such, her children, who had broken her heart every time they inquired why they did not have a father. She had never held anything back from them in her tales of her time in Middle Earth, a now well protected realm, fortified with unforeseen barriers so that the few elven realms that did remain in Arda would be untouched.

a/n: Well, more was to be added to this as well, and may well be once I go back to do the overhaul. As for right now, I just feel it is time to end the story and move on the sequel which will only be found at my website (for reasons explained previously, I just feel bad about taking up someone else's webspace with a story revolving around OC characters. The first chapter of the sequel, however, will be uploaded after this one as soon as I give the chapter a few look overs, hopefully I'll catch most of the typos then. The questions left over from Enigma will be answered in the sequel, I know there are a lot of them. I do however extend my thanks and gratitude to all who have read this story, this little experiment of mine. It's been three years now, still amazes me. Everyone who reviewed, who contacted me on aim etc, have become a joyful part of life and have made me feel very special. Once again, I thank you for reading and for coming this far with me.

::hugs to all::

-Rivlee


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